


One More Time

by TheWinsomeWasp



Series: One More Time [1]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Justin-centric, M/M, Original Character(s), Reboot, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 86
Words: 460,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWinsomeWasp/pseuds/TheWinsomeWasp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night of Brian's funeral Justin wakes up in his 17 year old body - what would you do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How it started

**Author's Note:**

> I own no recognizable characters or events. No real people are depicted by the original characters. All Pittsburgh property mentioned is fictionalized versions
> 
> Please be advised any non-Fictional, people or place within the content of this story have been fictionalized and in no harm or profit is intended.

 

“Uncle Justin? Are you ready?” Gus’ voice is muffled not just by the door between them but by all the pent up frustration of a fifteen year old desperately trying to hold it together. He was long and gangly, like Brian must have been at that age; with eyes so wise and yet so fresh. Justin is blinded for a moment with a flashback to the night he was born and the look of jaded wonder on Brian’s face the first time he held his son. Gus had been so tiny he’d been almost swallowed by Brian’s hands. It was hard to reconcile that tiny new life with the man child who loomed over them, still growing into his father’s height.

“Coming,” Justin said. He’d meant it to be louder, not the breathless hoarse word that he’d all but choked on in reply. He wasn’t going to lose it. He was not going to break down and sob on Brian’s son. The boy had just lost his father and had been dancing attendance between Justin and Lindsey – who had broken down during the viewing, wailing and only Mel was keeping her up right.

He had to step out of the door; leave the tiny powder room of the funeral home private lounge for the families; get into the limo with Gus and the girls and ride to the cemetery and put Brian in the ground. He had to do this owed it to Brian. He owed Brian so much. He wanted to scream. It was as if his seventeen year old self was standing right behind him and berating him for all the lost opportunities, all the wasted time all the times he’d been side tracked and distracted and how he’d forgotten. He’d forgotten the one thing that his seventeen year old self had known with the certainty of gravity; forgotten, the one central theme of his universe, like a pole star swinging every light in the heavens around it and guiding a complex orchestra of life. Brian.

He thought of the rings. The rings Brian had kept. Lindsey had been going though Brian’s closet, Mel had made a crack about how Brian Kinney would rise up and zombie shuffle to the nearest tailor if they buried him in something thing last season or god forbid provided by the funeral home. In going through his cufflinks and other jewelry Lindsey had found them. She’d been so confused. Justin had gently reminded her of their aborted wedding so long ago and then in case Brian had never told her, said that he had been the one to call it off and it was one of the biggest regrets he had.

Not the only regret, regardless of Brian’s personal philosophy. He was a successful artist, any artist that could be a working artist was successful in his book and over the years he’d developed a small but loyal following. It didn’t matter what he could do in the next fifteen years or god forbid thirty. He’d trade them all to have the last fifteen back. Why had he wasted the last ten years – away from Brian – working on a name for? So he could be remembered after he died? By who? Nameless faceless people who talked art and milled around galleries to see and be seen, none of them mattered. None of them would care – except for the fact that a dead man’s work was more valuable – if it were him being lowered into the cold ground.

He opened the door. Gus was wearing a suit. Not one of Brian’s expensive designer ones, but one Lindsey had got him for a dance. She’d mentioned that the minute Brian had seen his son in a cheap off the rack suit he’d dragged him to his tailor and had the thing fitted. The kid was an absolute heartbreaker. His eyes held all the complex emotions he was struggling not to show on his face. They’d lost Deb just last year and he remembered Gus tucked under his dad’s arm for most of the funeral crying unashamedly. Brian in a rare bit of candor had told Justin when they’d been lying together before Justin had had to fly back to New York that he’d never been prouder of Gus. That the fact that his son hadn’t inherited his own emotional constipation that Gus was able to tell people he loved them and show it without thinking it was a sign of weakness was a wonder to him.

Justin wondered why he hadn’t taken that opportunity to tell Brian that he wasn’t emotionally constipated, that he was the most loving and giving man he’d ever met, that the fears he had of becoming his own father were ridiculous that his son was living proof of all that and more. How many times had they laid together over the years warm and spent? They talked about everything but the fact that neither of them ever wanted to be anywhere else. They never said goodbye, not the first time he’d left for New York or any time after. He would show himself out like any other trick and Brian would wait. Wait for Justin to call and let him know he was on his way, wait for Justin to invite him for an opening or just a weekend or ask when he had business in town. Five years after he left Brian had taken him to Paris for two weeks, twice while walking the narrow streets Justin had almost suggested they liquidate all their assets and move to the French countryside. As if Brian could thrive anywhere but a city.

Justin was so angry at himself for always thinking he would have tomorrow, next week, next year. It wasn’t just seventeen year old Justin screaming at him now. He was screaming at himself. How could he have let so much time, so much life with that man slip through his fingers? Justin reached up and straightened Gus’s tie, “You look so handsome,” he said, carefully not saying you look like your father. Everyone had been remarking on the resemblance and if Brian were here he’d have intervened not liking the pressure that could put on his Sonny boy.

“Are you okay?” Gus asked.

“No.” Justin said, “You?”

“No,” Gus answered with a ghost of his father’s smile.

“Let’s go,” Justin said and they walked together to join Lindsey and Mel and Jenny and Michael to ride to the cemetery, in a few hours they could both find somewhere to shut the door and break down.

 


	2. all over again

Justin jolted awake as a knee narrowly missed his junk.

“Wake up! You’ve been sleeping forever. I want you to open my present now, you can wear it tonight. It’s after noon. How do you sleep so much?” The girl who had nearly crushed his testicles asked.

Molly. This was Molly. Molly at seven? Eight? He was in his old room at his parents’ house – before they split.

“Wha?” Justin was stunned. This was impossible.

“Don’t tell me you forgot it was your birthday? OMG you’re such a spaz,” Molly said and ran out of the room yelling, “Mom! Justin’s so dumb he forgot his birthday.”

His mother’s voice was a clouded muffle but Molly’s reply was loud and clear as she stomped down the stairs, “You said I could wake him.”

Justin rolled out of bed and stumbled to the ensuite. He scratched his balls and then relieved himself and stopped, stunned in front of the mirror. He looked like a twink – no worse, a kid. He panicked. How old was he? Given Molly’s age he had to be at least sixteen but good God he looked like a kid. He’s lost all the definition to his shoulders. His first thought was that Brian would be appalled he looked as young as Gus. And then he remembered; remembered everything – the funeral and all the years leading up to it. And if he was here and here was the past – Brian was here, in Pittsburgh – at work, at the baths or banging some guy at the gym, Brian was alive, here, now. The one thing Justin had to do, provide he wasn’t a drooling vegetable and this wasn’t an elaborate hallucination was not lose his pole star, not get distracted again by someone else’s ambitions or idea of success. He was going to find a way to keep Brian Kinney in his life this time. He’d found him, stalked him and done it before he would do it again and this time he would keep on track. There would be no estates in the country, no commuting from one city to the other – the only requirement for where he lived would be Brian – and a place for Gus, when you know, Gus was born.

First thing first, find out how old he was and get some fucking meat on his bones and definition to his muscles – Brian would not touch him if he looked like jailbait. Second, squirrel away some assets and belongings for when Craig chucked him out, look into emancipation of minors and any benefits or grants for education, try to get his education accounts transferred to his mother’s name. The cash when he’d turned 25 had been welcome but his father holding the purse strings on all the money had been a hardship when time for schooling. He was a successful artist – if he could avoid Chris Hobbs he could avoid reducing his mobility and keep the coordination in his hand – he wouldn’t need art school. If he could get a degree in graphic design – he could help Brian build Kinnetics – when Brian started it that is.

“Justin?” his mother’s voice came from out in his room

“Just a sec,” He said. They’d lost Mom to a heart attack three years ago. Had coronary calcium scans been invented yet? He was steering her toward a heart healthy lifestyle. How had he not known a woman her age was more likely to die of heart disease than cancer? He steeled himself and remembered just yesterday and how hard it had been to step out of that powder room when Gus was waiting. He opened the door and smiled at her, “sorry I overslept.”

“I’m sorry I had to let her wake you. You’ll never make it until dinner tonight if you don’t eat something,” She said.

Dinner. He had gone out to official family dinners for two birthdays one at sixteen and one at seventeen. God he hoped he wasn’t sixteen.

“So you didn’t send Molly up so I could find the new car parked in the driveway?” He asked adding an eager hopeful look that would have been suited for himself pre-Brian.

“Very funny,” his mother said. “You didn’t get it last year and not this year either.”

Seventeen, one question solved. “Maybe for graduation?” Justin asked, knowing he would be out of the house long before then. Silently thanking God that he wouldn’t have to keep this charade up for a year until he was legal.

“We’ll see,” she said with the mysterious mother smile she always wore at birthdays.

He went downstairs and raided the leftovers from last night’s dinner for lunch. His mother also made some soup and sandwiches. He hadn’t felt this hungry in years but guessed he was still growing. He didn’t have a gym membership or a treadmill and neither would do him any good given what the next year would hold. But it was months before the day Gus was born, the day he met Brian and he did remember how to work out - yoga, Tai Chi, and calisthenics from his years in New York. Until it was safe to approach Liberty Avenue he needed to get in shape, work on school work and prepare for the future. And somehow keep Daphne from figuring out he was different, because she would if he wasn’t careful.

After lunch, he checked the internet, confirmed the date, worked out, showered and was researching CMU’s early application process, summer programs and financial aid all before his father got home. He had nine months. He had to hold it together for nine months. Everything in him wanted to call Brian, right now and sob uncontrollably and apologizes for every day they’d spent apart. If this was a hallucination he didn’t want it to end. If it was hell it would end the day before he met Brian and restart over and over.

Dinner that night was at the Grand Concourse and Justin was jarred by the sight of his grandmother. His mother’s mother had died that year. In his memories this was the last time he saw her. Here she was, wearing a red hat and snipping at his father. God he loved her. Not being a moody teenager like the first time he hugged her and told her it was so good to see her. She beamed and he remembered all the times his mother would say he got his smile from this woman.

Molly was being more of a brat than usual, not just because the dinner was not about her. Molly was used to eating at the country club where she could run off when she was bored. Justin held the chair for his grandmother and took the seat next to her. Last time his grandmother had sat between his parents and after the requisite grilling about school he and Molly had eaten quietly while his mother engaged her in polite conversation and tried to steer her away from criticizing his father. Molly ended up between his parents with dad next to grandmother and mom next to him.

This time he monopolized his grandmother’s attention. He asked about her hat and if she was a member of a club that his friend Daphne told him about. She asked about Daphne and if she was his girlfriend. They talked about art and about school. His mother was barely concealing her shock, because he was working his grandmother like an art critic in a New York gallery. He told his grandmother about his plans to try to get into Carnegie Mellon since they had a good art program but would permit a broader range of classes than a dedicated art school.

Craig had interjected a couple times with his opinions regarding where Justin should go and what he should study. But this Justin again wasn’t a moody teen. He listened and nodded and said it was a good point before dismissing the opinion and chattering on with his grandmother. By the time dinner was over, he had a date with his grandmother for brunch the following Saturday to try a new place she had heard of in the Strip district. Justin remembered the restaurant as being just on the boarder of the area he’d known so well about six blocks from Babylon. She wanted him to bring Daphne if she was free and promised to bring one of her friends.

On the way home, his mother kept turning in the passenger seat as if she thought an alien was in the back with her daughter. Molly had fallen asleep almost before they were out of the parking lot. The area around Station Square was busy at this time of night, especially since it was a weekend. His mother and father, but he knew it was his mom, had given him a gift certificate to an art supply shop, Molly had gotten him a long sleeve tee in an odd salmon color and he tried to remember if that was what she had got him last time.

His grandmother gave him a card with fifty dollars cash, but he strongly suspected she had picked up the dinner check as well. He wondered if he could talk her into giving up her driver’s license. The retirement complex she lived in was central, close to public transportation. He knew she liked to take her friends places but maybe he could sell her on not being designated driver all the time as well as the cost savings on gas and insurance a bus pass offered. She had wrecked that big boat of a caddy cold sober and alone with no reason to have run off the road. It would be nice to have her around longer. Mom would need her if her marriage crashed and burned again in the wake of his coming out.

He closed his eyes and pretended to doze. The pressure was building and it hadn’t been a day. What if he woke tomorrow morning back at the loft? Back with the open closet, open drawers and scattered remains of the most important person in his life. Woke with Gus, grieving for his dad, Lindsay fraught with facing life without Brian and Mel frustrated because after all the years and all the poking and fighting Brian was closer to her than any of her birth family. And woke with himself, numb and unable to comprehend facing one day in a world without Brian Kinney let alone a long lonely life. He couldn’t think that. The stress would kill him before Gus was even born. He had to suck it up and deal. He’d learn from the best that there was no failure as long as you keep trying. Brian was the poster boy for rising from the ashes; Justin had no intention of not measuring up.

“Are you okay, Honey?” His mother asked.

Justin smiled without opening his eyes, “Yeah. It was good to see Gram. I guess it just hit me that she might not always be there.

“She’s in good health,” his mother said.

“She drinks too much,” Craig interjected, and Justin lifted his lids just enough to see his mother shoot his dad a seething glare.

He smiled to himself and offered, “I guess when you get to her age you can do what you want and tell the rest of the world to go to hell.”

“Justin,” His mother admonished.

“Molly’s comatose, Mom,” he replied.

When they pulled into the drive he woke Molly who mumbled, “Carry me.”

“No. Dad will put his back out and I would rupture a spleen,” Justin said. It then just occurred to him that his dad had put his back out and been an absolute bear for days after. “Come on,” he said and herded her out of the car, letting her lean on him while he steered her up the stairs.

Up in his room he started to plan a portrait of his grandmother, Mom and Molly, maybe for Mother’s day which was soon. He also worked on a timeline and list of things he needed to accomplish and to change. Password protected and filed under a word document titled American Art History – Antebellum Era, because really no one would want to read that. It was two o’clock in the morning before he stopped with all the electronic fretting, wondering what if anything he’d already changed and what impact his actions would have on the future. The very stars had aligned to throw him and Brian together in the first place and he had stalked Brian and refused to leave his life – which he had no problem doing again. But what if he fucked up? What if he pushed too hard or being that he was no longer the wide eyed kid who fell into Brian’s life Brian didn’t reluctantly fall in love with him? What if he drove him away or became an obsessed asshole that ruined Brian’s life?

Justin realized he was procrastinating. He couldn’t go close to nine months without sleep or the rest of his life for that matter. He was going to have to crawl in bed, put his head on the pillow and close his eyes and risk everything. This was all in, Texas hold em style. Either he was here to stay or not. And if he was here he would trade the rest of his life if he just got the chance to choose Brian over everyone else’s dreams and ambitions, if he got a chance to drag both Brian and his mom in for a heart scan when Brian reached forty. Could you make something like that a Valentine’s Day gift? He prayed to a God he hadn’t called on since the bashing, let him die on the same day Brian had, just let Brian live to see Gus walk down the aisle, to hold his grandson, to stay in this world because this world without Brian wasn’t worth anything.


	3. just a jump to the left

He came out to Daphne, officially instead of just letting her assume and waiting until he’d confirmed it with that night with Brian. Not that it had ever been in doubt. But, she’d noticed the change in him and he had used swearing her to secrecy and his fears of his parents finding out to distract her. Distract her from the fact that literally overnight he’d gone from a spastic teen princess to a thirty something out, loud and proud, gay man who had navigated the hell of high school, the meat market of Hollywood, the back room of a hundred different clubs and formed a lifetime, long distance partnership with the most amazing and frustrating man God had ever put on Earth. He admitted that she was right when she said she thought his mom would handle it well, but was careful to point out that his mom would feel obligated to tell his dad and that that would put her in a position where she would have to choose between him and his dad. And his dad held all the finances, not that he didn’t think his mom was capable of supporting herself and Molly but she shouldn’t have to.

It was Daphne that suggested he come out to his grandmother. Daphne, who had never pushed him for this after he had been fucking and stalking Brian was insistent he needed some sort of adult support. He was reminded of Brian calling him a walking PSA, apparently he got it from Daph. He’d dropped art club because there was no way he could explain how his skill and style had evolved so much over one weekend. But was able to get a pass from the faculty sponsor to leave school to miss a study hall and art class a couple times a week, telling him he was making some extra cash doing portraits at his grandmother’s retirement village. And he was, some were from photos but most were from visitors to the other affluent residence at ‘Redstone Highlands’.

He’d opened his own checking account at a bank his parents didn’t use and got a box at a ‘Mailboxes Ect’ on the bus route for mail. He was making a couple hundred a week during the two visits he dedicated to drawing. It was enough to get materials to frame the portraits he painted for his mom and grandmother for Mother’s Day. They were the first work his teacher had seen since he’d quit the club, since it was that teacher who was helping him with his framing technique.

“These are really good,” Mr. Omler said.

Justin smirked, they were better than good and he wasn’t a stammering seventeen year old, not really. But he said, “I think the work I’ve been doing has helped my technique a lot. I’ve gotten some pointers from some artists in the community.”

“The gay community?” Mr. Omler asked.

Justin gave him an incredulous look because really where was this guy last time he lived through this homophobic hellhole and said, “My grandmother’s retirement community.” And then he added, because he still was deeply in touch with his inner bitchy princess, “Are you suggesting I scope out the gay community for help with my technique?”

Mr. Omler stuttered some denial, and backed the hell off, which worked for Justin. Justin thanked him for the help with the framing and after wrapping them in bubble wrap slid them into two large cardboard portfolios and marked the outside so he would know which was for his mom as they were slightly different and the one for his mom a was landscape style because he had a feeling that until she sold the house Mom would want it over the sofa.

He dug though his mom’s craft room looking for wrapping paper that wasn’t Christmas or birthdays and found enough wedding paper to wrap one and a whole big roll of pale pink that was probably left from a shower or one of Molly’s birthdays. He used the wedding on his mom’s because she wouldn’t care and the pink on his grandmothers. Stashing his mom’s in his closet he went back out and caught the bus, ducked into the Big Q to buy some Mother’s Day cards, and nearly choked when he almost literally ran into Michael. Okay he was carrying a large pink package and looked like a twink but really that sort of dismissive look was not called for, so he flirted outrageously with an older cashier and commiserated with her on her hard ass boss, while Mikey looked like he wanted to defend himself and yet was reluctant to admit he was eavesdropping.

He signed the card for his grandmother and tucked the card he picked up for his Mom in his backpack along with the two he’d grabbed for Molly, while waiting for the next bus that would take him near Redstone. The community was sprawling and had everything from assisted living facilities to private townhomes. For residence sound in body and mind it was like a summer camp for adults with a wealth of classes, tours and social events. Crashing happy hour even if the drinks were virgin got him almost as many pats and pinches on his ass as Babylon on a weeknight. Too bad they were all geriatric women. His grandmother and her gaggle of girlfriends were enjoying the temperate afternoon outside. There were standing heaters ready to chase any chill that swept in but they were currently unused.

He kissed her cheek and greeted her friends before saying, “I know I’ll see you at brunch Sunday but I didn’t want to bring something this unwieldy out in public. Do you want me to store it in your place and wait until the official holiday? Or shall you live your manifesto of ‘why wait’?”

He figured he wasn’t just popular with the gaggle of old ladies because he was young and handsome. On the word of Stella Kaufmann, he had been pronounced a ‘nice boy’. When they’d had that first lunch with Daphne, his grandmother had brought her friend Stella. Stella was a sharped tongued woman on her sixth husband who seemed, to Justin at least, to be an odd amalgamation of Blanch on the Golden Girls and Mel. Stella had been suspicious of one of Elizabeth’s five grandchildren suddenly taking an interest in her. Which Justin thought was sweet. To think little Miss ‘Six Husbands’ was worried he was a gold digger, and at seventeen he’d have been intimidated. Instead he’d camped it up and said, ‘Honey, have you met Craig? Obviously I’m looking for a role model. If you can think of a better one than Grandmother, point me in his direction.”

“Open it now, Lizzy,” Stella called from across the veranda. The rest of the sorority of Redstone residence took up the calls. Many had been customers or were asking to schedule time for him to do a sitting with their family. However he’d been doing pencil drawings for then, this was a painting. It was just her and his mom and Molly clustered together. His grandmother read the card and gave him a kiss.

She received a few strong words of advice on how slowly she was opening the paper and even Justin said, “Don’t worry about damaging it, it’s in a box underneath. “

He helped her remove it from the cardboard portfolio and unwrap the bubble wrap. He set it in the chair he vacated so she could view it and asked, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Justin,” She said and started to cry.

Justin fumbled around looking for tissue and was handed a handkerchief by one of her friends. “Please tell me those are good tears,” he said, handing her the cloth to dab her eyes.

“You’re not in it,” she said.

He smirked and whispered to her, “No matter what Dad is going to think of me when he finds out, I am not one of the beautiful Corcoran women.”

She grasped his hand and squeezed it in her tiny boney grip and said, “You’re so talented. You’re going to be famous.”

Scooching closer to her he said softly, “I don’t want to be famous. I want to be happy. I never want to be blinded by the need for success or money to the fact that people are the most important thing in life and time spent with the people you love, no matter how much is always too short.”

“Do you know what will make you happy?” She asked.

“If I were grown up and had a life time of experience, I would probably say the key to being happy is to just decide to be happy. But there’s a man out there, he doesn’t know it yet, but I am going to rock his world and turn it upside down and make him wonder how he lived a day without me. And I am going to devote my life to making him happy. I will wrap myself around his world, into his life and hold onto him as long as God lets me,” Justin said. Forcibly stopping himself from telling her the truth, that he had already done all that, and then blown it by going off to look for fame.

“I wish you would tell your mother,” She said.

“I don’t want to put her in that position. You don’t have to be able to see the future to know Craig will pitch a fit and then tell me to just not be gay. As if he could have given up women for the rest of his life at seventeen just because his father said so,” Justin said. “He’ll give me an ultimatum. Stay and let him lead my life; or go and be me. I know what I’ll do when that moment comes – but until then, until I have no choice, I don’t want to put Mom in the position of having to choose between us. They’ve been arguing a lot as is and she has Molly to worry about.”

Stella had joined them for the last of that with her Bertram. He was in a wheel chair with an oxygen tank but seemed to be enjoying the warm non-rainy day. Stella knew because what Elizabeth knew Stella knew and vice a versa, but Justin wasn’t sure Bertram had enough of his faculties to keep up. “She needs to dump that man,” was Stella’s contribution.

“If she ever gets there you recommend a good divorce lawyer to her,” Justin said with a wink. Since he couldn’t have Emmett, Stella was the next best thing. She’d worked the burlesque shows in the late Forties, starting on stage at thirteen, able to lie about her age due to a truly impressive rack she had lost to breast cancer in her early fifties.

The talk moved to school, his grades were doing better than the first time, probably due to his channeling his immense sexual frustration into studying and working on SAT prep. He told them his dad wanted him to take a SAT prep course, and while he was all for that he thought that he could save the money prepping from some books he purchased at Barnes and Noble and instead use the funds for a six week precollege offering over the summer at CMU. It consisted of eight classes in a variety of mediums would be from 9 to 4 Monday through Thursday with field trips and workshops on Fridays, the six week program cost around five thousand dollars and given how close to the vest his parents played money, as if it were something dirty that you didn’t discuss in front of children, he had no idea if the reason his father was bulking was that they couldn’t afford it.

Stella who had been supporting herself at his age, or maybe had scored her first in a long line of sugar daddies held a firm belief that you should always know your assets. She’d given him some advice regarding investments, but he’d confided to her that his tiny nest egg was earmarked to keep him from hustling to feed himself when the shit hit the fan. When she mentioned she’d been a pro when needed he pointed out that while penicillin might not have been readily available at every clinic back then; that STDs had come a long way and were a lot scarier. If he hadn’t loved her for her fierce loyalty to his grandmother, he would still have adored her for her frank opinions about sex and sexuality. This woman hadn’t just lived through the sexual revolution; she had been a freaking General. Forget Marilyn Monroe, Stella six forgettable Jewish names Kaufmann should have had her own website.

“Stell?” he asked. “Do you have any photos from your time on the stage, publicity stills and such?”

“I might, why?” She said.

“Just an idea, are they just you or the rest of the girls?” Justin asked.

“Tell me this idea,” she said.

“It’s all cloudy edges and stuff, but maybe a tribute to the Pittsburgh history, before Wiley Avenue was razed when there were all the clubs and shows downtown. Back when the city didn’t empty out when everyone bolts to the suburbs after work. I want to work on something bigger over the summer – even if Dad says I can enroll in the program its only six weeks. The light is crap but if I can talk mom into parking in the driveway for a while I can get some real work down. Nothing like some pretty scantily clad girls to liven up things up; isn’t that what all the ad men say ‘sex sells’?” Justin said.

“Oh, I know you have boxes of memorability Stella,” Elizabeth chimed in, “Don’t leave the memory of all your friends turn to dust, let Justin immortalize them, forever young, forever beautiful.”

“Forever brave,” Justin said, “Forget those bra-burning hippies of the ‘70s going to school on their parents’ dime and looking down their noses at earning a buck. My generation needs heroes who worked for a living and embraced their sexuality when the rest of the world was hiding under their desks in fear of the atom bomb.”

Stella barked out a laugh and Bertram gave a weak, “Hear, hear.”

“Forget the garage,” Stella said, “You can use our place in Squirrel Hill, it’s just gathering dust. His kids refuse to let us sell it – despite none of them wanting to live there. Most of the furniture is in storage so you can throw down some tarps - the breakfast room is almost all glass you’ll have plenty of light.”

So after Mother’s Day on an afternoon he normally drew at Redstone he and Stella and his grandmother made the short trip to Squirrel Hill, conveniently a couple mile up Forbes Avenue from CMU campus, to a beautiful midcentury modern building. All the furniture that wasn’t built in was stored and Stella was right the light coming in to the kitchen and attached breakfast room was exquisite.

“Oh my God,” Justin raved, “why does no one want to live here? This is perfect. It’s close to everything and it looks so … Frank Lloyd Wright.”

“Good eye, one of his students designed it,” Stella said and sat at the built in banquette next to one of the three boxes of memorabilia from her storage unit, she’d had him load into the car. “This is a three bedroom/one bath – no master, not suitable for the generation that expects a bath for every bedroom and a couple half baths for guests.”

“But it’s so,” Justin was turning in circles, first mesmerized by the period oven and cook top and original cabinets of the kitchen, then stunned by a built in ironing board and pull out pantry. “So, Rat Pack,” he finished.

Stella laughed and poked Elizabeth before saying to Justin, “What could you possibly know about the Rat Pack?”

“I know Frank was hot and exuded raw sexual energy,” he shot back.

“He was skinny, at least when I opened for him,” Stella said.

Justin bounced over, because Stella had the best stories. He knelt next to the boxes and as he started looking through said, “I like skinny, tell tell, did you bang him, oh my God you did, didn’t you? I never thought of myself as a fame whore but I so would have gone down on him.”

“Justin!” His grandmother said, hiding her blushing giggle in both hands.

“Come on, Stell, give me the dets. Was he hung?” Justin said with a wink because between the two of them they were going to kill his grandmother.

They spent almost two hours dishing dirt, most of it about the girls in the pictures Stella had. He was glad he’d tossed a notebook in his knapsack because he wanted as much info on them as Stella could provide. He was actually going to call some people at local galleries and at the art schools to find out about the legalities of using images of people who may be alive or dead and who may have families who didn’t want them in his paintings. Marilyn had been public property when Warhol used her image but these girls were long forgotten. He didn’t know if he should spruce them up, make them more 21st century beautiful in the paintings or leave them in their 40’s and 50’s untouched and raw sensuality. The curvy girls had less appealing faces and the pretty girls less impressive racks.

Stella in the sepia of the prints lacked her vibrant personality which was probably what drew so many rich men to her. So he wanted as many details of each of the girls’ lives and personalities as she remembered – he knew Stella’s portrait would be the show piece of the collection and that it would most likely paint itself but he wanted to do all the girls justice.

There were also shots of the audiences and the garish, un-air-conditioned interiors of the halls. Some news clippings of the shows and programs and a few photos of people protesting to close the peeler shows and protect the morals of the public but mostly the girls. Staged shots in dressing rooms of four or five, single shots done up for their acts, tassels and glitter and risqué outfits that covered more than most bathing suits did today, but must have been shocking in the fifties.

They left his mom’s car in the drive way, he had successfully talked his grandmother into giving up her license, and were about to walk up a block to the shopping district. They planned to have dinner in a little hole in the wall sushi place, when his mom called to find out where he was, and he said with Stella and Elizabeth without thinking only to have her admonish him about respecting his elders. He wondered if she could hear the girls laughing at her, since they could hear her loud and clear. He thought about asking her to join them. But even if she could without his father or Molly, he wasn’t out to her and she would never be able to keep it a secret. He was not telling her until after he met Brian.

After dinner he drove Stella and his grandmother back to the residence. He stopped in and thanked Bertram for letting him use the place and promised not to destroy it. They chatted about the architect. Apparently only Bertie had bought it after his wife died and later lived there with Stella. He’d always liked the style and his late wife had liked larger more impressive homes, so it wasn’t sentimental value on his children’s part that made them reluctant to let him sell. Justin pointed out that it was so close to campus that he could make a fortune renting it out, if he didn’t want students wrecking it there were probably lots of staff that could afford it and would like being able to bike to work.

Bertie shook his head and laughed and said, “Don’t talk yourself out of a workplace. You should go into sales, kid.”

Justin had already sent in the application, the application fee, his transcripts, LSAT scores and letters of recommendation in order to meet the deadline since it would be stupid to finally get the money and then not get in. He was doing some preliminary sketches of the outside of one of the old theaters from memory when his mom stopped in his room.

“We missed you at dinner,” she said.

“I was with the girls,” He said, knowing he’d just told her that an hour or so ago.

His mom sat on the edge of his bed, looking like she was steeling herself for a fight before saying, “You’re always so busy. You’re never home.”

“I’m not doing drugs, or crashing keggers in fields,” Justin said. “I just. Life. It’s happening so fast and yet not fast enough. I’m ready. I want to start. But I know I’m seventeen and I just need to be parked somewhere out of the way until the world is ready for me to start living at eighteen or twenty one or some other arbitrary number. I’m just ready now.”

“You’re still so young-” She started.

He interrupted with, “and everyone is going to say that. And say that. Until one day I won’t be young anymore and I’ll have wasted so much time waiting to be the age everyone else feels is good for me to start my life.” He watched her thinking about this or perhaps thinking about what she wanted to say so he offered, “Stell, found me a work place. Somewhere I can spread out and paint.”

“You can paint here,” she said.

Justin shook his head and said, “I don’t have the space or the light to do some of the pieces I have planned for this summer. If Dad says we can’t afford the program at CMU I want to at least have something to show for all the time I’ll waste over the summer. I have a pretty big project planned and I want to look into finding a place to show at the end of the summer.”

“Do you really think you’re ready for something like that?” She asked.

He shrugged, “I won’t know until I try. The place Stell is lending me is near campus, so I can go right from class to work if we can afford the program and even spend a night there if needed. It’s a private home, good locks, good neighborhood, its empty of furniture and the power and water are shut off but I can use the Sheetz down the street if I have to go to the bathroom and just haul in bottled water to drink.”

“I’ll talk to your father about the program,” She said.

“Thanks,” Justin said. “I know you and dad don’t feel comfortable about talking finances. But should I scrap the idea of college? I’ve checked the financial requirements and I don’t think I qualify for any income based aid – unless you guys chuck me out before I graduate – so if there is no college savings now would be the best time to let me know so I can adjust my plans.”

“Just let your father and I worry about that,” she said


	4. and then a step to the right

 

School was out and he had two weeks before the CMU pre-college program started in late June. It would wrap up after the first week of August and he was hoping to schedule a show sometime between the end of the program and the beginning of his senior year. Since so many Fridays would be traveling with his classes around the city to companies and museums around the area he was hoping for some insights on where he could show. He knew the bigger places were out but there were several smaller places around the neighborhoods – surely one was suited for what was shaping up to be a good perspective of Pittsburgh history. Maybe even check with the Heinz History Center over on Smallman. They focused on Pittsburgh History, it was much larger then smaller galleries but since that was what his project was based on it couldn’t hurt to look into.

Justin wiped the sweat off his face with his tank, then removed it and tossed it aside. He’d stashed changes of clothes here but with no running water he couldn’t shower although Stell insisted on turning on the electric so he lights and a fan. The painting of Stella was all he could have hoped for – large and loud and showing the brash beauty in all her teenaged glory with a tilt to her chin and a gleam in her eye that said she would take on the world and come out on top. He’d added her to a couple of the group shots and manufactured some shots with the girls she had the best memories of. Today the old Warner Theater was a cluster of specialty shops and a food court stretching between Fifth and Forbes Avenue but in the painting it was packed with men on their lunch hours that stopped to see the comedians telling jokes and the girls shimming in tassels and glitter. The biggest canvas actually took up the largest bedroom. And he would not be able to get it out of the house without removing the canvas from the framing and re-framing it on site – it was 12 by 15 and the largest he’d ever done, even in the future. It was one of a crowded dressing room packed with girls and their half assembled costumes and props, cigarettes in long holders, hair pins and hats and clutch purses and explosions of body powder, that had Stella holding court to an army of dancers, coat check girls, waitresses and candy hockers, telling tales of her latest stage door Johnny.

Justin had most of the screened windows open and was stripped to the waist and barefoot in loose baggie shorts. Justin had spent the last weeks since school let out working almost none stop and had started even before his junior year had ended. It felt good to have a project to channel his pent up loneliness into and he’d done this for years when he and Brian were in separate cities.

He still stopped by for dinner with Bertie and the girls at least twice a week in addition to their regular Sunday brunch and Daph brought lunch to him or came and dragged him out to lunch mostly to check up on the paintings. He even offered to paint her in as one of the girls and she hit him. Until he mentioned some of them were younger than her and this was their only job option once the war ended and all good girls were to get married and out of the workforce. Now she was thinking it over, weighing how much her mom spazing out would be worth the thought of having a woman of color represented in Pittsburgh history – because as she pointed out they might not have been in the high-end shows down in the swanky part of town like Stell but she was sure they were somewhere up the hill.

“What are you doing here?” A voice brought him out of his contemplation of his current canvas – as well as his worry about how he would handling seeing seventeen year old Daph in nothing but glitter and feathers.

Justin turned his upper body to the direction of the voice, also the direction of the front door, which he knew he always locked. There was a young man, twenty fivish or maybe younger, olive skinned, hard looking slicked back dark hair, but a lot of it, very nice slim but muscular body – doable but cranky looking. He thought he should probably say something so he said, “Painting? I thought I locked the door.”

“I have a key,” the man said.

Justin wiped his brush and turned fully to face him and said, “So do I; and the owners know I’m here. How about you?”

“The owner is my grandfather,” the young man said.

Justin set down the brush, finished wiping his hands and held one out and said, “Justin Taylor.”

“Todd Kaufmann,” the man said.

“Wife chuck you out, Todd?” Justin asked.

“No, of course not,” Todd said.

Justin asked, “Then what brings you by? I mean without Bertie and Stell being here.”

“That’s none of your business,” he said, his attention drifting over the canvasses.

“It kind of is. I’m working. If you need a place to crash I know your grandfather wouldn’t want you on the street and I don’t need the guest room but I am on a schedule. You would need to get water and sewage turned on to use this as a residence. I only need the space for another eight weeks, but I am storing supplies and art here and if people are going to come and go I need the place to be secure.”

“I don’t know who you think you are-” Todd started.

Justin sighed, “Look, Todd. Your grandfather supports the arts, he’s a major contributor via his trust to the symphony, the opera, and he has his private artwork hanging in local museums. This is his way of supporting local artists, by providing a secure space they can work and create. If you have a problem with that you should take it up with him, but all I’m asking is why you’re here – you would ask the same if I showed up at your work place and demanded your attention. “

“This is pornography,” Todd said.

“You opinion is noted, and disregarded. This is art. This is history. These are pioneers in the woman’s movement and amazing people in their own right,” Justin said.

Todd turned around. From his previous angle he would not have seen the canvas leaning against the wall that the door was on in the open living area of the house - the showcase piece of Stella. Now, coming face-to-face with it he said, “This is that tramps doing. She took advantage of him. He has a diminished capacity and she is-”

“Shut the fuck up you tight-assed loser,” Justin said. “You should be so lucky to have someone like Stella in your life. Maybe if you were getting it more often instead of hitched to that hormonal shiksa-”

Todd jumped in, “Where do you get off-”

“Bertie talks, I listen,” Justin cut in and said. “He worries about you. I think you’re his favorite.”

“How do you know my grandfather,” Todd asked.

Justin crossed to the kitchen and opened a cooler he kept there and held up a bottle of water to ask if Todd wanted one. Todd shook his head no as Justin said, “he and Stell are in the same Redstone community as my grandmother. You should be so lucky as to be Bertie, he’s in straight man heaven. Apparently if you live long enough all the competition dies and you’re like a rock star. All the girls love him.”

“You’re?” Todd started.

Justin dismissed him with, “Seventeen, and you’re so not my type. You know,” he added in a good approximation of Bertie’s lilt, “you should stop by for dinner sometime, it wouldn’t kill you.”

Todd snorted and asked, “So you know the word shiksa, do you know goy?”

“Don’t you mean shegetz?” Justin asked, because in addition to the work space the Kaufmanns had given him an overview of Yiddish.

Finally the high-strung young man laughed outright, and shook his head before saying he’d just been driving by and saw the windows open and worried. As he was backing out on the drive way, Justin called, “Seriously, stop and see him – you won’t have him forever. Make some memories.”

One of Justin’s worries was that Bertie wouldn’t get to see the paintings. A bonus of a father that sold electronics was he had his own digital camera. At least it had been his until he’d left to live with Brian and then it never made it out of the house intact. He sent the shots of the completed pieces to Bertie’s email so he could see them but the house wasn’t wheelchair compliant. Stella had seen them, and loved them. Justin in his previous life had hated having people look at this incomplete work and like most artist lived for the big reveal. But he was too aware that this was borrowed time and he was really worried Bertie wouldn’t make it to the end of the summer.

Even his mom had stopped by a couple times, probably more to check that he was safe and not getting drunk or laid or high or all three. She was shocked and found the material questionable but with all the memorabilia and research he’d done on the whole Pittsburgh burlesque era she really couldn’t say anything. The girls on his canvases were luminous. The background emphasized the grittiness of the tawdry halls and coarseness of their audiences, a blue-collar, soot stained backdrop to fierce and fiery girls determined to meet life head on. He remembered her once telling him, before, in the future, that she’d suspected he was gay for a long time and it was his sketch book filled with the male form and doodles of Brian’s name that confirmed it for her. He almost laughed because all this tits and ass had to be confusing the hell out of her.

Once the program started he had to cut back seriously the classes were intense but he was meeting lots of fellow artist and the faculty was so different than what he remembered from PIFA. He was glad he’d worked over three weeks none stop before it started. He had almost twenty canvases none as large as the dressing room piece but most were respectable sizes and he figured he could flush out the work with some smaller pieces and get it to a respectable number, somewhere between thirty and forty between now and end of summer. He had already earmarked both the dressing room and Stella’s large full frontal, with nothing but fans and glitter on a dark murky background as gifts to the Kaufmanns for letting him use the space. He was thinking of keeping one of the group shots with Stella and her besties for himself but the rest he would sell if he got serious offers.

Hopefully, one or two would sell for enough to justify him not working a crappy teen job over the summer, wouldn’t take much to match his old bus boy wages. His father had been making noises about work teaching ethics and griping about the cost of tuition and the summer program. Justin made an effort not to engage Craig and had offered to use the proceeds from the paintings to pay him back for the cost of the summer program. He had honestly only done it to shut his father up. He thought Craig was merely insulted that he was implying he couldn’t afford the program, when he said it wasn’t necessary. It was his mother who told him later, that he was to put the money aside for pocket money when he was at college because his grandmother was paying for the summer program – and then insisted he not let his grandmother know he knew.

+

They lost Stella, abruptly that August. Two days after the end of his art program she had looked unwell and finally broke it to Justin that the cancer which had prompted her mastectomy was back and it had spread to her brain. She had known for a while that she had been given just a few weeks to live when they found out, brain surgery might have extended that period to a few months but it was risky and Bertie supported her decision to opt out of the surgery. She spent the last month of her life being interviewed for a documentary on her life in burlesque. The film would run at the History Center along with Justin’s art and Stella’s memorabilia collection which was currently being professionally curated.

Bertie was being male, stoic and strong. Justin was a mess and would cry with his head in Stella lap while she would chastise him with words he kept asking her to repeat and tell him what they meant. Todd was stopping by for dinner more often, now that he knew his grandfather’s fortune wouldn’t be passed on to Stella. He left the shiksa at home. Justin was glad Bertie wouldn’t be alone when they lost Stel, not that he or his grandmother wouldn’t look out for Bertie. They’d promised Stel, who said that rich men who knew how to treat a lady were like rent controlled apartments and should be carefully passed on when you had to leave them. Elizabeth had been appropriately shocked but Justin had told Stel, he’d do all he could to see neither of them were alone long.

He was both sad she had waited until his classes were done to tell him and relieved that he hadn’t had to bear the burden of knowing she was dying for longer than a week. Part of him wondered if it was his fault. If his changing things so his grandmother didn’t die while driving her big boat of a car had had to have a price to pay for the extra time she got. Did that time come from Stella? He was willing to give all his extra time to extend Brian’s live but what if he was destroying the loom of fate and shortening other peoples’ lives.

He’d been tempted to blurt everything out to Stella, his original life and everything since coming back. She might have thought he was crazy but she would have been there for him, probably had good advice and taken the secret to her grave, literally. But he didn’t want to burden her with the knowledge and he worried, that like some fairy tale magic if he named it, gave voice to the secret, he would wake up back in a future that had no Brian.


	5. With your hand on your hips

The exhibit was set to open just before Labor Day and run until early October. It would be the whole top two floors of the History Center. It had started as only the next to top floor where the viewing room for the documentary was but expanded once the board saw his work. The representative from the center, Mr. Ferris, had at first suggested they would use one or two of his paintings to supplement the memorabilia and the documentary. Justin wasn’t sure if the man intended to give the impression he did, which was that Justin’s work was only being shown at all as a courtesy to Mr. Kaufmann, as if Mr. Ferris just assumed Justin was some relative who drew in his spare time.

So at the meeting with him and the documentary people and the board of the center he suggested that they come out and pick what piece or pieces they wanted to show with calm aplomb. Only four of the board had accompanied him to the house. As Justin walked around he opened the windows and got a good crosscurrent of air going in the sticky summer weather. He said, “Only two of them are unsellable. I’m giving both of them to Mr. Kauffmann. The big one in bedroom and this one, of Stella,” he said stopping by his showpiece and added, “But I think if you only take one it should be this one – I really got her on canvas with it.”

He hid his smirk. He’d propped all his work up around the walls and hung a few, all forty canvases, large and small were on display and his girls looked gorgeous. Not as gorgeous as Brian prowling down Liberty the night they met but the girls had the same confidence, the same lust for life and the same riveting sensuality. The four people who had come with he and Mr. Ferris were in awe. Justin didn’t know if they knew anything about art or if it was just the nearly nude girls.

Justin ushered Mr. Ferris into the largest bedroom that held the dressing room piece. “This is the other canvas I want Bertie to have, it’s so Stella,” he said. “But maybe it’s too big for your venue-”

“No we have space, this is perfect.” Mr. Ferris interjected. “I had no idea.” He looked around and walked out to the others. The board members were scattered around, each commenting on a favorite. “You have to see this,” he said, and motioned them into the bedroom.

“Can we show them all – we can condense down some of the memorabilia right?” said the lone woman, a Ms. Hoffman.

“There are forty pieces as part of this collection,” Justin said. “They’re all based upon Stella’s stories, not true portraits; I used both the photos and her recollections to try to bring her friends to life. It’s not just a tribute to Stella; this is the women’s movement of the forties and fifties in Pittsburgh. Some of the girls started working shortly after puberty, many were runaways or throwaways with little to no education, some chucked out for being promiscuous or lesbians or just for wanting to have a say in their own lives. The job market for women, well women like them, was almost none existent. They’re our role models, our roots, they started the sexual revolution.”

“How old are you?” She asked.

Justin grinned at her and said, “A lady never asks, and a gentleman never tells.”

She laughed and said, “But you’re a student right?”

“Yes,” He said.

“You need to be in New York,” she said.

He sighed and said, “I’m right where I should be – trust me.”

Later that night he finished his sit ups and pull ups and showered again. He went down stairs and found his mother making tea in the kitchen. He told her the dates for the show were confirmed and that there was an official opening on August 25. “I don’t know if Molly would be okay with going, it’s going to be a grown up crowd on opening night with alcohol so you may want to get a sitter and then take her during the day sometime.”

“I’m not sure the subject matter is appropriate for your sister either,” she said.

“Mom, most of the costumes cover more than modern bathing suits,” Justin said. “And do you want her to grow up thinking her body is something to be ashamed of?”

“Justin, you’re just very young to have done a burlesque tribute,” She said.

“It’s a tribute to women – not the burlesque industry – it’s a tribute to Stella and all the girls like her,” Justin said. As he said it, it occurred to him that his mother was going through the same fears she had when she found drawings of naked men, that he was becoming sexually active too early – of course she was worried about the wrong gender but it was all he could do not to laugh in her face. “You’re not going to picket my show are you?”

“Of course not but your barely seventeen,” she said.

“That’s old enough to drive, to legally be sexually active and I can be held responsible for a checking account,” he said.

“I thought you had to be eighteen?” she said.

“No that’s for voting, the military, getting married and going to prison,” he said. "Banks only have to give you minors account at sixteen or younger.”

“I meant sex,” she said.

Justin smiled and said, “Seventeen, and you only have to worry about it if you having sex with adults, you can have sex with other minors legally when you’re a minor.”

“Justin.” She said.

“I spend my days painting, with old people, or with Daphne, Mom,” He said, “Trust me, I’m not getting any. And if I was you’re the last person I’d tell; well next to last.”

“You know you can talk to me-” she started.

Justin smirked and cut in, “Tell me about how you ran home to Elizabeth and told her in detail about the first time you had sex.”

His mother blushed, and said, “Okay. I get it. Just be careful.”

“I will be,” He said.

He picked up Elizabeth the next day and when to pay a shiva call; which in Redstone meant walking over to Stella and Bertie’s condo. Justin did some online research and called ahead so his grandmother knew not to wear leather in her accessories. His mother gave him the car so he stopped by Wholey’s in the strip and picked up about five pounds of smoked salmon because he wasn’t sure he could prepare food and keep it Kosher. Fortunately the Jewish Community Center had sent people over to help Bertie receive callers and they took the salmon and gave him a yarmulke. He and his grandmother sat beside each other on straight back chairs, he kept an arm around her as she dried her tears on a linen handkerchief.

Todd came over and spoke quietly with them. Justin was tempted to hold a grudge given how Todd hadn’t approved of Stella but figured if he was here for Bertie that was all that mattered. Bertie was wheeled from one group to another, sometimes by Todd but usually by an attendant from the retirement community. The ladies from Stella and Elizabeth’s red hat group were all subdued and in dark colors, some had vintage veils pinned in their hair and most had real handkerchiefs out ready to catch their tears.

They stayed a little over an hour and spoke briefly to Bertie, before going back to his grandmother’s condo. Justin ditched his jacket, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves. He sat on the couch sketching as his grandmother changed clothes and went into the kitchen and made tea. He lost track of time and looked up blinking from his pencil drawing to find a cold cup of tea in front of him and his grandmother smiling as she watched him from a nearby arm chair.

“It’s like you dive into another world when you’re working,” she said.

Justin sighed; normally it was getting harder and harder to not draw Brian, but today he’d drawn Stella and his grandmother, on no specific afternoon on the veranda, sitting together and laughing at one of Stella ribald stories. He tore out the page and handed it to his grandmother.

“Oh Justin,” She said.

“It’s for you, a thank you,” he said.

She looked suspicious and he figured she was wondering if his mother had spilled about her paying for the summer program, and asked, “Whatever for?”

He smiled and said, “For sharing your best friend with me. Right now, I’m really sad. But then I think, I could have gone my whole life and never met her. Then I wouldn’t be sad because I wouldn’t know what I missed and Stella was awesome, more than worth a few tears. So thank you for giving me the opportunity to fall in love with her.”

Yeah he was a sap, Brian would have ridiculed him and he made his grandmother start crying again. But if he learned one thing in the crappy sci-fi ‘B’ movie his life had turned into it was time and people were unpredictable and you should tell them the sappy things even if you were going to be ridiculed.

He headed home for dinner, his dad was working late again and it was just the three of them. His mother asked how it had gone. He told her it was sad but that Elizabeth and the rest of the girls were going to start a rotation once the seven days were up to drag Bertie to meals and events. The grand opening of the exhibit was only four days after Shiva ended.

Justin was thinking of cashing in some gift cards and hitting Torso to pick out something suitably artsy and grown up for the event. It wasn’t like hundreds of guys didn’t shop there; Emmitt shouldn’t remember him when he and Brian met, meet, English needed more tenses for time travel. Or he could play it safe and head to one of the malls. School was going to start soon. It was getting down to the wire. He had Gus’ birthday circled on his calendar; it was so far off and yet so close. So many things could go wrong. He ached for the sight of Brian and yet knew he was going to be a total spaz when he saw him, probably worse than the first time.

He chickened out of going to Torso, but dragged Daphne with him down to The Waterfront. He withdrew five hundred dollars cash from his portrait account. His feet were now the same size they were all his adult life so he was investing in a sleek pair of ankle boots. He wanted a leather jacket, fitted and black, a high end jersey knit silk tank, also in black and a well fitted pair of jeans, preferably black as well. It took them all day to even come close to finding the items. He couldn’t find a jacket but got two pair of boots. Given it was summer he settled for a lacy over shirt that reminded him of one Brian had worn clubbing. The tank was cotton but a good fine weave instead of the desired silk and the jeans were more of a dark gray than deep black but he was so ready to be done with shopping. He wasn’t Brian and he never understood retail therapy. He bought Daph lunch at PF Changs and both of them friendship bracelets, which were flat blue stones that looked more like Brian’s than the pair they’d had in the past, future, whatever, he was just that tired.

They headed back to Daphne’s place and secured permission for her to attend his opening with him. Her parents had been leery of the material until Justin pointed out it was at the History Center and that they had both gone there on field trips in second and fourth grade. Justin kind of wanted to come out to Daph’s parents, just to get her mom to stop eyeing him like he was going to impregnate her daughter, but knew they couldn’t be trusted to keep it from his parents.

That evening as they relaxed out by her pool, Daphne asked, “Are you nervous?”

“Fuck, yeah,” he said with a laugh, “how could I not be? But its only part for me and part,” he paused and wished for a cigarette. Quitting had been hard in the future and he hadn’t wanted to start again but he was doubting his ability to stay off them given what he knew was going to happen over the next few years. He continued, “I want them, people, to get it, I want them to see Stella and all the girls and realize that it’s not just a peeler show. Its strong women, taking control of their lives in an era where that was almost impossible to do.”

“I think it’s going to go really well,” Daphne said. “You’re really talented.”

He smiled at her because no matter how much things changed he could always count on Daphne to be there for him. Breaking the sappy moment he asked, “Do you think the clothes I bought make me look too gay.”

“How gay is too gay?” She asked which let him know that the answer was yes.

Justin rolled his eyes and said, “Er, gay enough that my dad sends me off to military school?”

“A whole school of hard bodied men and few or no females; this is supposed to cure you?” Daphne asked, “As a disinterested third party I have to question the effectiveness of this course of treatment.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Justin said. “Your professional opinion is always valued.”


	6. you bring your knees in tight.

Daphne and he, well he but Justin brought her too, were required to show up ridiculously early the night of the opening, so Daphne drove that way his parents could bring his grandmother. Daph wore a teal mini dress with a fur lined scoop neck collar and perilously high heels. Justin had insisted she bring along a pair of flats, just in case – because best friend or not he was not carrying her. He’d had a hernia operation in the future and just really, never again.

He posed for pictures with various board members and was introduced around, Daphne stayed on his arm and it reminded him of prom or what he could remember of it. Daphne had seen the paintings as they were worked on but here, hung and lit well, she was vocally impressed as they moved though the near empty center. Mr. Ferris and Ms. Hoffman and a couple of reporters followed but Justin was focused on Daphne’s reactions. And some of the smaller ones were completely new to her since either he’d finished them when she was off doing her summer activities or forgot that she hadn’t seen them. When she remarked on one, he told her the girl’s stage name and what her real name was, where she’d come from, how she ended up in Pittsburgh and who she married, and a little about him.

“I don’t know that much junk about my own grandma, how do you remember it all?” she asked.

Justin grinned at her and said, “They’re my girls. Stella gave them to me; I have to remember them for her.”

They visited a few more paintings but both became self-conscious when they realized they were being watched, Ms. Hoffman’s sob when Justin talked about his girls was a give-away, and that they were quite possibly going to be quoted. The caterers were setting up stations of bad wine and dubious cheese, near the stairways and Mr. Ferris showed them to a staff room where they could relax while things were set up.

Later, his mother showed up with his grandmother but not his father, right before Bertie and Todd arrived. Justin and Daphne, by then waiting on the first floor, crossed to the group as the hour to open was almost there and he asked, “Is something wrong, where’s dad?”

“The sitter canceled and he stayed with Molly,” his mother said.

Normally Justin would have been willing to accept that at face value but his grandmother looked ready to kill so he figured his father was just queening out over something. “Well,” he said, “allow me to escort you up so you can take your time before everyone gets here.”

Mr. Ferris was holding the large freight style elevator to take them to the sixth floor. The elevator was modern and moved smoothly but since the History Center was in an old ice factory they utilized the original shafts and elevator size – it could probably move a car. Justin stood back as they made their way through the sixth and fifth floors and reviewed the collection and the memorabilia. His mother had only seen a couple pieces, probably trained from when he didn’t want anyone seeing his unfinished work. And Bertie had only seen the digital photographs. The two paintings Justin had gifted to him were marked appropriately and none of the others were priced, there was just a small sign saying that offers would be considered for purchase but that the paintings were booked until the end of the exhibit.

Justin was sitting in the viewing room watching the documentary, with Daphne crying on him, when Ms. Hoffman came to have him meet some VIPs. He left Daphne with his mom. Who seemed pretty stunned by the exhibit and he was hoping it was good stunned. Meeting new people and talking art was old hat for Justin and he was only doing it by rote when something stopped him in his tracks. Mel and a pregnant Lindsey walked passed his field of vision. He couldn’t breath and he couldn’t leave. Was fainting an option? Did people still do that? What exactly were the vapors?

“I’m sorry what did you say, I’m suffering from a bit of sensory overload tonight,” he covered. Right it was the mayor, Ms. Hoffman had just introduced him to the mayor. What the fuck? Didn’t this guy have a job to do? This wasn’t the freaking Oscars, he had expected mostly art school faculty, like Lindsay but not actually Lindsay and the pretentious donor crowd, oh right the pretentious donor crowd was a magnet for people with their hands out, like charities and politicians.

Finally he was able to break away, he tried to keep out of sight from Mel and Lindsey but he didn’t think all that standing was doing Lindz any good in her condition. He’d brought a collapsible, camp chair for his grandmother because there wasn’t really any seating outside of the viewing room but she had frozen him with a look when he mentioned it. Not wanting to approach them himself he asked Todd to take the chair over to the nice pregnant lesbians to try to prevent her from giving birth tonight. By Justin’s calculations she should be in her second trimester or early third – he hadn’t done pregnancy so if anything happened now it would be a miscarriage. Todd had no problem offing the chair to the two women, and the three of them spoke for a few minutes, before he returned to his grandfather.

The night was exhausting. Justin spent the bulk of his time not glad-handing the powers that be of the Pittsburgh art world, trying to keep track of the munchers and eyeballing the milling crowd to see if anyone else from his old life suddenly appeared. He headed back to the staff room and found Daphne, shoes off, sitting with her arms folded on a table and her head on her arms. He got a two bottles of water from the fridge and went over, took the seat next to her and put his arm around her.

“You’re too young to be passed out at parties,” He said, holding the chilled bottle so that when she lifted her head and one big brown eye was visible from her folded arms it was all she saw.

She said, “How are you still standing?”

“I took a nap, and I didn’t wear four inch heels,” He said. “Want me to get your flats from the car?”

“Would you? I’ll love you forever. I’ll have your baby,” she said,

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Chanders,” Justin said to the doorway causing Daphne to whip around and almost fall out of her chair Justin laughed at her and said, “Things like that are what makes them treat me like a walking sperm factory. Give me your keys.”

“They’re coming tonight,” she said as she took her keys from her purse.

Justin took the keys and his bottle of water and said, “They could be here already but I haven’t seen them. I really didn’t think this would be such a … tummel.”

“Now I think you’re just making words up,” she said. “It’s like you’ve become one of those LARPers who drops Klingon or Elvish into otherwise normal conversations. Shoes. Now. Crazy man.”

Justin slipped outside; a cooler breeze was blowing in from the river. Fortunately since they got there so early, Daph’s car was in the front of the lot right across the street. Shoes in hand he started back across the street, only to spot the real Mr. and Mrs. Chanders coming down the side walk from further down Smallman. He waited for them to approach and held up the shoes before greeting them with, “You were right about those heels, do parents just live for moments like this?”

He was pretty sure Mr. Chandlers had pegged him as gay sometime between seven and ten years old, Mrs. Chandlers seemed to think it was all a clever cover to get in her daughter’s pants. But they were good people, kind of thoughtlessly liberal and he remembered that they had been appalled when his dad threw him out in the past, future - damn. He escorted them inside and they were almost to the staff room when someone needed him, he asked the person who fetched him to escort them the rest of the way so they could take Daphne her flats and keys.

It seemed to take forever but the night was winding down and the place clearing out and he was on his way back toward the staff room when he found himself alone in an alcove with Mel. He would have slipped by but she had tears in her eyes and Mel wasn’t one to tear up at the drop of a hat.

Given the event and that his grandmother was coming and it was about Stella he actually had a handkerchief, well two, in his pockets. He handed one wordlessly to Mel, who looked at him like he was insane, or an insane anachronism – which okay he could live with. She took the handkerchief and as the silence dragged on he said, “Since I’m probably going to start crying with you, what are we crying about?”

Mel actually laughed at that and pointed to a smaller painting, of a fan dancer, fans resting on a chair in a dressing room as she painted on glitter to simulate the lines in the back of stockings on her bare leg. The tiny dressing room around her was chaos as other girls gossiped, feather boas draped over mirrors and spangles and sequence were scattered amide powder puffs and pots of face paint. “I think, I think this is my grandmother,” she said.

“Ida Greene, she stripped under the name July Summer,” Justin said. “Married a boy from Germany, had an accent, all the girls thought he was dishy.”

“He survived Auschwitz and came here to make a new life,” Melanie said. “He was never dishy.”

“When you lived the lives these women lived, kindness was dishy, common courtesy was dishy, respecting a woman, was dishy – and if you didn’t have that, you were branded a john and treated accordingly by all of them,” Justin said.

“You sound like you knew her,” she said.

He smiled and looked down, “I feel like I did. It was nice meeting you,” he added and slipped away through the staff only door. He hoped she’d just think he was just a docent and forget about him. But he made a note to put a reserved on that painting. The only bid that would be accepted would be from Melanie or Lindsay – otherwise he’d put it aside and give it to her once they met.


	7. but it's the pelvic thrust

It turned out that the reason for Craig’s queen out was he’d got a look at what Justin was wearing when he’d run out to Daphne’s car. His dad hadn’t been awake when Justin and his mom got home in the wee hours. After the event, they had gone to Ritter’s, an all-night and wheelchair accessible diner out past Bloomfield, with Bertie, Elizabeth and Todd. Todd had offered to take Elizabeth home with Bertie and his mother had been subdued as they all talked. Justin had been crazy paranoid that Todd was going to out him to his mom the whole time.

Daphne’s parents had made her leave the car to be picked up tomorrow, based upon some weird parental believe that they didn’t want her driving home at the same time the bars were closing and had taken her with them, making her miss going out for afterhours recovery food. Justin told her he was declaring tomorrow non-existent and planned to sleep though it but suggested they get together with the newspapers the next day and see if the Sunday paper had any reviews.

So it wasn’t until nearly two PM on Saturday that Justin zombie shuffled into the kitchen and clutched at the coffee maker making sad frustrated sounds until his mother made coffee. Craig was there glaring and looking like he was contemplating a prostrate exam, but Justin was not dealing with him until he was caffeinated. Justin was wearing light grey draw string yoga pants and the black tank from yesterday, and once his brain kick started with caffeine he conceded that it wasn’t the butchest ensemble to greet your homophobic father with after your first art opening but they were comfortable and he was wearing a jock under them, it wasn’t like his junk was visible to his little sister - who was nowhere in sight.

“Morning,” he mumbled and held out his mug for a refill.

His mother huffed and smiled and refilled before saying, “Since when do you drink it black.”

“When I’m too asleep to find the milk and sugar,” he said. “I admit my powerlessness to the presence of caffeine, please don’t send me to rehab, I’ll never survive. Is there foodlike substances as well?”

“I can make you something,” she said.

Justin buried his face in his second mug only to surface and say, “don’t go to any trouble, just give me whatever’s grazable.”

“That’s not a word,” his mother corrected.

Justin smiled, he could see his dad ready to blow in his peripheral vision, and just as it looked like his dad would speak added, “English is a fluid language, changing and adapting, constantly influenced by its users, kind of like the World Wide Web.”

“What are you wearing?” His father said.

Justin bit back his natural response such as saying he was not comfortable with face-to-face phone sex with his father and said, “Uh, workout clothes?”

“You work out?” his mother asked, probably trying to diffuse the situation.

Justin pulled a banana out of the fruit bowl and started to peel it as he said, “I’m a seventeen year old man who looks fifteen; of course I work out. I’m also mentally willing myself to grow four more inches. So far neither is having any recognizable effect. What do we have in the way of leftovers? This kind of feels like a cold spaghetti moment.”

His mother opened the fridge and handed him a blue Tupperware bowl while asking, “What exactly does a cold spaghetti moment feel like?” And then as he took the bowl and popped the lid added, “Oh Justin, use a fork.”

Justin put the fork she handed him in the bowl along with the half of banana still remaining and picked up his once again refilled mug and said, “I’m going to go lay in the sun. I think I have a sleep hangover.”

Laying on a chaise lounge on the deck he slurped coffee, finished the banana and shoveled cold spaghetti with meat sauce into his mouth. It was hot and muggy in the way only August in Pittsburgh could be. The temperature might only be about eighty-something but the humidity was over ninety percent. He figured he would lay here until he felt like he was drowning and then go back in and do his push-ups and sit ups and pull ups before showering and going back to sleep.

His plans were foiled by Craig coming out, er… of the house, his dad left the French door to the deck partly open and Justin just knew his mother was standing inside eavesdropping. “You can’t go out dressed like that,” His father said without preamble.

Justin chewed and swallowed his mouthful of spaghetti before saying, “Of course not, I just slept in these clothes.”

“No! Not those, although – what kind of pants are those?” Craig was building to something stupid and Justin was mentally cataloging where he could go if Craig got violent.

“Yoga pants, they great to sleep in, they don’t restrict movement or cut off circulation,” Justin said and shoveled more spaghetti in to prevent himself from saying they were a step up from naked which was how he’d slept most of the last ten years of his life or that mostly he wore them to keep Molly from getting an eyeful.

“I’m talking about last night,” Craig growled.

Justin deliberately misinterpreted and said, “Yeah, wish you could have been there. I met the mayor, how weird is that?”

“Dressed the way you were last night, like some fag?” Craig said.

Justin raised an eyebrow and said, “Dressed like half the guys there last night, entirely age appropriate, not revealing or avant garde, boots, jeans, tank, over shirt. Sure the politicians and donors were in suits but as the artist I’m kind of expected to dress more casual. What do you think would have been more appropriate?”

“Are you being smart with me?” Craig said.

“No dad, I really want to know. What would have *not* set you off? What I could have worn that would have had you show up, like you used to do to my school open houses and even if you don’t like my work, smile and nod and pretend to be proud of your kid,” Justin said. “Not that it hasn’t always been a dream of mine, to talk fashion with my father; but I don’t think this is really about clothes is it?”

“You can’t have people thinking you’re a fag,” His father said.

Justin put the now empty bowl aside and said, “I have no power over what anyone feels or thinks, about anything. No matter what I do, people will think what they want to. What I do have power over is my actions,” Justin could almost hear Brian saying ‘listen to me, are you listening to me’ before spouting some truism and tried to channel some of that calm confidence as he said, “and no matter what action I take, what school or course of study, what job, what clothes I wear or movies I see or art I make – people, all people, the ones I love and the ones I’ve never met will think and feel things about me based upon those and how they perceive my actions. At the end of the day, at the end of my life the only person I have to justify myself to - is me. So people can think what they want; they will anyway.”

“I don’t want you dressing like that,” Craig said.

Justin nodded and said, “I acknowledge your opinion. I don’t agree with it, but it’s valid and based upon your thoughts and feelings.”

“Don’t get smart with me you little shit, this is what comes from letting you run wild this summer,” Craig said.

“Run wild?” Justin said, “Dad I took and did really well in eight college level classes. Classes in drawing, sculpture, digital photography, animation, painting, printmaking, communication design and industrial design; and I made contacts on the faculty of my chosen school. I put together forty paintings on a historical retrospect of the women’s movement that I don’t even need to see the reviews of, I know it’s doing well, last night I was told my work may be asked to tour other cities. You make it sound like I’m out clubbing and bringing home waitresses from Hooters. What is this really about? Why are you always so angry all the time? I don’t get it; you didn’t used to look at me like something you scrapped off the bottom of your shoe, what changed?”

“This isn’t about me!” Craig shouted.

Justin picked up his bowl and put the banana peel and the fork inside and stood and asked, “Then what is it about?”

“People think you’re a fag,” Craig said.

Justin just looked at him. This was months ahead of schedule and if his dad had said this before his senior year started the first time, he’d have loudly and vehemently denied being one. But he wasn’t really seventeen and back then, he’d cared what his dad thought of him. He’d long since learned not to care. So instead he sighed and asked the question his father in his future had never answered, “Why, is what people think, such a concern to you? Why does what other people think of me; impact whether or not you love me?”

His father looked shocked and didn’t say anything. As the silence stretched Justin looked down at the bowl in his hands and back up at his dad and said, “You can get back to me on it, when you figure it out.”

He went in and handed the bowl to his stunned mother, kissed her on the cheek and said, “I’m going back to bed.”

He stuck to his plan because despite what he said earlier he was developing some definition over the summer. He’d never look like Ben but between his calisthenics and yoga, his arms, legs and abs were nothing to sneer at. He showered and was back to sleep by five. Which was a good thing because then it was Daphne nearly nailing his junk as she climbed in bed with him wielding multiple newspapers, thankful she’d kicked off her shoes first. So he was shirtless with his arm around her, both of them under the covers and leaning back on the headboard of his narrow single bed, while she read the reviews out loud when his father opened his door.

Daphne did this to him on purpose, he knew it. She did it with her parents, she said, first to whined them up and second to desensitize them for when she got a boyfriend. She did it to his parents in some mistaken sense that he needed a beard to keep his dad from tossing him out to live on the streets. So of course she offered his dad a big smile and said, “Hey Mr. Taylor isn’t great! Listen to this,” and proceeded to start reading the article from the beginning.

“Why don’t you bring it downstairs,” He interrupted. “I’m sure Justin’s mother wants to hear it. She made cinnamon rolls.”

She bound out of bed and gathered up the art sections and her shoes before she dashed away. Justin waited a moment to see if his dad would follow and when he didn’t Justin got out of bed. Of course he was only wearing a jock strap after ditching the offensive yoga pants. He sorted through the cast off clothing around his room, first smelled and then pulled on a light grey tee shirt and then giving up pulled on the yoga pants.

His father started to say something and Justin cut him off with, “when you figure out how to control women, write it down because the rest of us would like a handbook.” And followed Daphne toward the coffee and cinnamon rolls.

The reviews were positive and actually gushing in one case, but oddly some facts were wrong. They didn’t mention he was a student at St. James but referred to him as just finishing up at CMU and there was no mention of his actual age. The only picture of the artist was one with his arm around Daphne and thanks to her incredible shoes they looked to be the same height and much older than high school.

“I know right,” she gushed, when his mom remarked on the picture. “I remember saying you just finished a program at CMU to one of the stuffy guys, maybe he thought that was what I meant? Don’t I look hot! My mom freaked.”

“Total dish,” Justin added, and if his parents weren’t there he would have added, I’d do you. He stole the remaining half of a roll off her plate. “I’m going to have to get one of those collapsible shovels to carry around in my backpack to threaten all the guys.”

“Want to come school shopping at the mall with me and Tracy?” Daphne asked.

Justin shook his head while inhaling coffee and then said, “We wear uniforms.” And since his dad had left the kitchen to watch the game in the family room he added in a low voice that he was sure his mother heard, “And dad is having a wardrobe crisis of some sort – I may be rationed to flannel for the foreseeable future.”

“I thought you had a flannel allergy,” she said.

Justin shrugged and murmured, “I think my parents want to unsex me.”

“Justin that’s not true,” his mother jumped in and then looked guilty for being caught listening.

“Can you drop me at Redstone on the way to Tracy’s,” he asked.

Daphne looked him up and down and asked, “Are you wearing that?”

“No, give me ten minutes to shower and find something that will pass the heterosexual test,” Justin said as he headed toward the stairs.

“Justin!” His mother said, but he was already half way up the stairs.

+

Daphne looked at her and then asked, “So, which one of you called him a fag?” And as Mrs. Taylor just stood looking at her with an open mouth she said, “I bet it was Mr. Taylor, huh? You’re way too polite for that. Don’t worry, Justin’s tough. The kids at school have been calling him that for years.”

Daphne just kept looking and waited as Justin’s mom sat down at the table, cradling a mug of coffee. “They do it because he’s pretty, because he’s creative, because he’s smarter than them, but mostly because they can. No one stops them or tells them it’s wrong or even thinks about it much. It used to bother him, when we were little. If you’re wondering why he doesn’t care, what you think, or his dad, or anyone really, it’s been a long hard road and he paid for that knowledge. Paid by having his locker tossed, his clothes ruined, his artwork destroyed and being pushed and shoved and generally bullied since most of us were so young we only knew that the word fag meant someone who was different. He’s always been different. He hasn’t changed really; he’s just stopped being ashamed of it.”

“He cares about you very much,” Mrs. Taylor said.

“Best friends,” Daphne said, “think about it. St James doesn’t have much diversity, we outsiders watch out for each other – do you know how many black kids are in our class? I do.”

Justin came down the stairs, hair wet, in cargo shorts and a blue tee, his back pack slung over his shoulder and a pair of canvas boat shoes in his hand. “Ready,” he said.

“Gotta go,” Daphne said, “it was good talking to you Mrs. Taylor.”

+

Justin put his arm around her as they were leaving and said, “And what were you two girls gossiping about?”

“You, of course,” Daphne said as she first got into and then started her car. “Tell me everything I hate missing the first act, why is your father in a snit.”

As they drove through the city streets Justin said, “Because I look like a fag and because I look like one people will think I am one.”

“What did you say?” She said, turning to him.

“Eyes on the road,” Justin said, “I said I had no control over what people think and no matter how I dress someone is going to think I’m a fag so why shouldn’t I dress how I want and please myself since I can’t please everyone – or something like that. I was running on only sixteen hours sleep.”

Before long they were parking in the Redstone visitors’ lot and heading in to the communal dinning since Sunday brunch was de rigueur with the girls. There were multiple papers and everyone was talking about the articles, they were planning to go together during a week day once school started to avoid the crowds. Nichol the only woman of color in the group waved Daphne over and was girling out with her on her dress and stories of the cruel killer shoes.

The atmosphere with this crowd was always festive and not for the first time Justin was struck by the similarities of postmenopausal women and gay men. They both seemed to think and talk about sex all the time. He went over and kissed his grandmother and sat on the side that Bertie wasn’t. Once he sat down he asked his grandmother “Was the reason you were shooting Mom angry looks because you knew Dad was queening out over me looking like a fag?”

“He was being entirely unreasonable, you looked lovely, you always do,” she said.

Justin grinned at Bertie and then said, “You’re a little bit biased.”

“At my age, I’m allowed to be biased, especially toward my grandson,” Elizabeth said.

“Don’t ever change,” he said and stole her fruit cup.

“That’s not enough for a growing boy,” she said and signaled one of the servers, “Bring him an omelet and some bacon. Do you want hash browns dear?”

“No, whole wheat toast if you have it, thanks,” Justin would love to move in here, it was like staying at a resort. As it was, he and Daphne were regular Sunday Brunch features. After the server left he said, “It just feels like Stella should be here. I think she’d have enjoyed dishing after more than the main event.” He felt himself tearing up and then felt even worse because here were Bertie and his grandmother the two closest people to her and he’d only known her since May.

“She’s here in spirit.” His grandmother said and brushed back his hair. His father had been telling him to cut it, but he though longer made him look older.

“So they think they may send it on tour once it closes at Heinz,” Justin said. “That would be cool. All those people hearing about the girls and their lives. I met Ida Greene’s granddaughter at the opening. I like the idea that it humanizes people, lets you see that they paid rent and shopped for cold cream and had a whole genesis before they became the fully grown person they were once their kids were born – or grandkids in this case.”

“I saw you put a painting on reserve that night,” Bertie said.

Justin shrugged, “well it would be once the tour is over but, why shouldn’t she have something to remember her grandmother with – she was crying – I’m gay but I’m male and helpless before crying females.”

Bertie laughed so hard he had to use his oxygen. And Daphne came over and perched on Justin’s lap to chat before she headed out to Tracy’s and shopping.

“How are you getting home,” Elizabeth asked.

“Bus pass,” Justin said. “In some ways its better than a car; it takes me where I need to go without the hassle of finding or paying for parking.” It was also paid for his mother had paid for an Annual pass in May which meant that since he’d given his mail drop as where it should be sent to every month even once he was out he had transport paid for. Given his father’s behavior Justin had actually hit his schools web site and the payment for tuition had to have been in by August 10th so by now the check or however it was paid for had cleared. If he did end up out of the house – all he would need was a place to stay and a way to feed himself too bad he couldn’t move into Redstone.

“Don’t you want a car?” His grandmother asked.

Justin shrugged, “In theory yes, but in reality cars mean insurance, gas, maintenance, repairs and in town paying for parking or moving it when the streets are cleaned – so I should have a job to go with the car. And right now that’s not a priority, keeping my grades up, getting an awesome score on my SATs and getting into CMU are.” Privately Justin was competing against himself; he wanted to get a better score on his SATs this time around. He shouldn’t be as nervous and god knew he was studying more and started studying sooner. “And keeping up some contingency plans, in case dad pulls the ‘be straight or get out’ play,” he said.

His grandmother asked, “Like what?”

“Well, my tuition at St James is paid until the end of senior year, so I can stay in school even if he kicks me out; my bus pass is paid in full until next July. I can shower at school. Daphne’s parents will let me crash there a couple nights a week. I don’t want to get a job until I have to, but I can bus tables and I should be able to find a room, or a couch I can rent at least until I graduate,” Justin said. “Depending on when he blows and how long I’m out I should be able to apply for financial aid, or school loans for college, I can always get a job at a call center or something – they have weird shifts and couple of the banks have them and I can get benefits and maybe even tuition reimbursement.”

“Sounds like your pretty prepared,” she said.

Justin sighed and said, “It’s when not if – he won’t have a gay son. I just feel guilty this is causing a lot of stress on Mom. Molly seems oblivious but that’ll change if they split and I don’t want her thinking that I destroyed her home.”

“Honestly honey, I never liked him, but I didn’t think it would get bad until you had a boyfriend or you know, started looking for one,” she said.

Justin covered a smile because it was so cute that she just couldn’t say sex, at least not to him, even after years of being friends with Stella. He shook his head and said, “I really don’t think the idea of me having sex with another man distresses him as much as the idea of everyone thinking I’m having sex with another man. He really is paralyzed by what he thinks other people think of him. And if he has a gay son, it will somehow make them perceive him as less masculine. It’s stupid really, I almost feel sorry for him. That seems like such a small way to live your life.”

“So why aren’t you out there looking for a boyfriend?” Bertie asked.

Justin grinned full out and said, “I’m waiting for the perfect man. When I get him I’ll bring him by for brunch.”

“No man’s perfect, honey. Just find one who loves you,” his grandmother said.

Justin said, “Then I’ll look for perfect imperfections.”


	8. They really drive you insane.

School started. Now that he wasn’t still reeling from the time displacement it was an excruciating exercise in boredom. Due to the photo in the paper, most of the school thought he and Daphne were a couple, despite their repeated denials; which was really weird. They had both kind of cruised under the radar their senior year aside from the drama of his being gay and being thrown out of the house. But, now they seemed to be minor celebrities. Not that any of that prevented the occasional queer slur being bandied. The difference was what would have once had him stressing out and hyperventilating now barely registered. He still had to tamp down on the urge to beat Chris Hobbes every time he saw him but the likelihood of shared hand jobs was severely reduced.

Justin had ramped up his business, doing paintings from photographs at the house in Squirrel Hill that Bertie insisted he keep using as a studio. He had a feeling that if Craig did kick him out Bertie would let him stay there, and he wanted to have enough cash in the bank to turn on the utilities if he did. The heat had never been turned off but was set so it would only kick on if the temperature was below fifty. And Justin did an estimate of gas, water, sewage and electricity and it would be way cheaper than an apartment even a shared apartment. Besides as studio space it was priceless.

Shortly before his show was scheduled to move on to another city as Justin and Daphne were leaving school for the day, he was hailed by his mother from the curb. “Mom? Is something wrong with Gram?”

“No, honey, we just have an appointment,” she said.

Justin turned to Daphne, rolled his eyes and said he’d call her and then got in the car.

“I would have let you drive,” his mom said.

Justin shrugged and said, “I don’t know where were going.”

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Ferris called and asked to see you at the Center,” she said.

Justin checked his phone for missed calls while wondering why the man called his mom and not him. Sometimes, okay all the time, being seventeen sucked. At least she wasn’t dragging him to some ‘conversion’ therapy group or a counselor to discuss his liking cock. At the History Center, the parking lot had spaces available since the work day was wrapping up so Justin and his mother were on time for their four o’clock appointment.

Mr. Ferris and Ms. Hoffman were there and based upon the offers they had been getting for the paintings they wanted to have lithographs of the paintings made. Fortunately for Justin, years in the New York made such things familiar, and even though he’d had an agent then, years with Brian had taught him to not let other people make decisions without knowing the bones of the industry, or to sign contracts without his own lawyer looking them over. His mother stayed largely silent while they talked and Justin was firm on wanting final approval on the print quality and no more than one hundred prints of each painting with a codicil that if all and he specified all copies of every print available sold out would he authorize a second run, labeled accordingly of five hundred copies per painting.

Justin wrapped up the meeting after about twenty minutes, he got the impression that they had thought he was just going to sign off so he stood shook hands and said, “So, if that’s agreeable, get it to me in writing and I’ll have my lawyer look it over. Any idea when the contract will be ready? I imagine you want to get this printed as soon as possible.”

Mr. Ferris startled and said, “Tomorrow, I’m sure we can have the details drawn up by tomorrow.”

“Will you be couriering it or should I stop by to pick it up?” Justin said.

Mr. Ferris looked to Justin’s mom and lost more points with Justin for doing so and said, “We can have it here same time tomorrow?”

“Then I’ll see you then,” Justin said, dragging the attention back to him.

+

Jennifer was seriously considering having Justin exorcized. There was no other explanation for how he would go from a child to a man before her eyes on an almost daily basis. His music, taste in clothes, appetite, increasingly foul mouth, put him firmly in teen years she had been dreading, but then he would transform before her eyes. In a school uniform he had taken over the meeting with experienced board members and without raising his voice or even arguing gotten every concession he asked for, she supposed she should see if the lawyer Craig used could look over this contract. Justin had done this the night of the show as well. She had expected him and Daphne to be bored and run around like they had only a few years ago at country club fundraising events. Instead he morphed into a professional artist, smiling and engaging critics and the cream of the donor and sponsorship crowd in insightful conversations about art and history. She understood Craig’s frustration but it bothered her. She had the feeling Craig wanted Justin to fail, that he was living for the ‘I told you so’, so that he could crush Justin’s independence and get him back under their control.

As they left the building Justin pulled out his phone and scrolled though his contacts, once in the car before she started the engine, she was waiting to talk with him about what just happened but he pressed call. While it was ringing he put the phone between his ear and shoulder and rummaged through his backpack for a pen and paper.

“Hey, it’s Justin Taylor. Is this a bad time?” He started. “No everything fine, but I find myself in need of a good honest contract lawyer and thought you probably knew the market better than anyone. I need them to review a contract for lithographs on the paintings tomorrow or the next day if possible.” He paused and said, “I’m supposed to pick them up around four tomorrow and if they’re not egregious we can start production before the Christmas shopping season.” He laughed and said, “yeah I’ve heard of that firm, do you have more than one because it’s a rush job and they might not be able to squeeze me in.”

Justin wrote down some names and numbers on the cover to one of his sketch pads. “Thanks, you’re a live saver,” he said before ending the call.

“Justin,” she said. “I thought you would want you father to have his lawyer look over the contract.”

“Dad’s lawyer establishes LLCs and does tax work mom, and I really think I should have my own lawyer, there’s probably conflict of interest or some sort of liability with using Dad’s, although I may end up needing a tax guy, but not until after the first of the year,” Justin said absently and then added. “Just let me see if one of these can fit me in.”

And he was dialing and then, “My name is Justin Taylor; I’d like to speak with Chris DeLuca.” He paused and then smiled. It wasn’t the full force natural smile and it gave Jennifer pause. If she had any faith in the exorcism theory this smile, this practiced professional smile was it. Her son would pout and sulk and yell at his sister, this man that occasionally took his place smiled and said, “You’ve certainly got my number; I have no idea if Chris is a Ms. or a Mr. I just know that Todd Kaufmann recommended my contracts be reviewed by the best, is that not Chris DeLuca?” The person on the line said something and Justin’s smile became less forced as he said, “Thank you.”

He paused, rolled his eyes at her and she noticed he was doodling on the sketch pad. It took a moment to see that it was the History Center, not as it looked now across the street, all refurbished and sleek but as the old Ice Factory must have looked back in the 1930s. She was jarred out of watching him create a view into the past when he said, “Mr. DeLuca, Thank you for taking my call. My name is Justin Taylor. Todd Kaufmann recommended you. He knows I’m in a bind. I’m in contract negotiations to have lithographs of my work produced, we’ve ironed out the most important details and I’m picking them up at four tomorrow. I’d like to sign them by the end of the week but want to make sure that what we agreed to in plain English translates to the legalese of the contracts. Can you or someone you trust squeeze me in tomorrow or the next day?”

Jennifer wanted to tell him that something like that was impossible. They waited weeks for an appointment with Craig’s lawyer.

“You would do that,” Justin said and now that was his real smile full and beaming. “No that’s perfect, thank you. Right where are you?” And Justin was writing again, and said, “Tomorrow then, at five, no if I get them early I’ll come over and wait if you’re with someone. If you’re not we can get this out of way so you can get home to the wife and kids.” Was he flirting, “you’re not? Well then you can get out to happy hour.” He was. Sight unseen and he was flirting with a lawyer, who was way too old for him. “I’m looking forward to it, see you tomorrow, Chris.” Ending the call he looked at her and said, “What?”

“You were flirting with that man,” she said.

He laughed and said, “I flirt with everyone, ask Daphne.”

“Justin-” she started.

He sighed and interrupted, “not you to? Are we going to have the ‘oh my god people will think you’re gay’ conversation? Because really; Dad has that covered. I get it. You both wish you son was more butch. Sorry, you gave birth to an artist.”

“No, honey, we love you just the way you are,” and he snorted as she said it, why had she wanted her sullen teenaged son back again?

“Can you call in an early dismissal so I can make these meetings tomorrow,” he asked.

She had thought they were going to talk about this and he just dismissed it, “I can drive you.”

“That’s silly, why pay to park and have to hang around like a chauffeur. Given rush hour traffic, the bus is probably faster,” he said, finally bucking in.

She started the car, and based upon how long it took to get out of the parking lot in the end of day congestion she agreed he was probably right but she knew his really reason was he didn’t want a her there. Having her hang around made him look like a kid, without her more and more people mistook him for an adult. It was the same ache that came when he started saying no as a toddler, when the words ‘I can do it myself’ became a mantra of his childhood. He never had wanted her there waiting to catch him if he fell. He’d look at her with angry eyes and say, “you think I’ll fall.” And he really was like Craig in that matter, as a child he would rather have fallen alone then have everyone know she was there waiting for him to fall.

So they drove home, listing to music that was more thumpa, thumpa, than words all electric and repetitive. And she worried that he would do more than just flirt with this lawyer he was meeting tomorrow. As they waited to pull on to the parkway she asked, “This lawyer? You’re not going to?”

Justin first looked confused and then he laughed. “I’m going to his office, at a law firm, not the back room at Babylon. He’s not going to risk making partner to bang a seventeen year old over his desk. And even if he was stupid enough to try, why would I. I can do so much better than him. Are we really doing this? Do you really want to open this can of worms, Mom? Because right now you can put the blinders back on and pretend everything is normal. Once you force this out into the light, you’ll start dealing with it and trying to make Craig deal with it. And trust me – he won’t.”

“Justin, I think you’re underestimating you’re father,” she said.

He took a deep breath and visibly calmed himself and said, “You think, but you don’t know. I know. I know Craig Taylor would rather have a dead son than a gay son. I just don’t want you to have to choose. Mostly because I love you, but yeah, there is a small part of me that worries that you won’t choose me or that if you do, you’ll regret it.”

“Oh honey, no,” she said.

Justin sighed, “If you’re going to out me to Dad can you at least wait until the end of the week I want to get these contracts signed before I’m homeless.”

“Justin, he won’t,” she said.

“If you’re right I’ll apologize to both of you, but give me to the end of the week,” Justin said.


	9. It's so dreamy

The next day at lunch Justin called his mom and said, “Did you forget the early dismissal?”

“No, I was just thinking I should come with you, you’re still under eighteen and you might need a parent to sign,” she said

“I can walk from Heinz to Grant faster than you’ll make it in rush hour traffic and you’ll never find a place to park near the courthouse,” he said.

“Justin, I don’t want you going alone; he’s a grown man-” she started.

Justin rolled his eyes and said, “You leave me alone everyday with grown men on the faculty are you going to start chaperoning me with them as well?”

“Justin, why are you so hostile,” she asked.

He sighed, “Because since I turned seventeen; you’ve shortened my leash. You can’t turn me back in to an unsexed nine year old. I’m a man, and I like my body and I don’t think I should be ashamed of myself or my sexuality. I am more than my sexuality but you can’t remove it and have me still be me without it. And today or tomorrow on next month, I am going to have sex. And I’ll do it when I’m ready, not when you are.” He glared at some underclassmen trying not to look like he was listening in and continued, “should I assume since you’ve backed out calling for the early dismissal like you said you would that you have also reneged on you promise not to tell Dad until this weekend? Should I be watching my back?”

She sounded like she was crying when she said, “Justin.” But he hung up before he could hear any more.

He cut out for the last two periods and caught a bus. He stopped at his studio and changed into clothes that would make his dad’s head spin. He’d been building a small but versatile wardrobe that made him look hot and yes, well, gay. He hadn’t developed any fashion sense until his mid-twenties, and that had only been at the insistence of his agent. But back then, or in the future, he’d never cared about anyone but Brian taking him seriously.

He grabbed a different bus and was downtown in minutes. He entered the History Center and chatted with a couple of the docents while waiting for Ms. Hoffman. It only took moments to pick up the forms and he walked down Grant Street and passed the courthouse. If he remembered right Ted had worked in one of the buildings along Grant Street or just off it. He entered an older building with the kind of art deco marble lobby that made him want to spend a day sketching. Looking around in wonder, he wandered around, checking the directory both to make sure he had the right floor number and to give him longer to take in the details. Finding the appropriate elevator he got in and hit the floor number.

The receptionist seemed to have been hired for her ability to make people feel unworthy of being in her presence. When he gave her his name she eyed his messenger bag that he’d swapped out his back pack for and sniffed as she informed him he was early.

He felt a big smile pull onto his face as he said, “I know. Chris did me a big favor squeezing me in, I wanted to be available whenever it was good for him.” He took a seat to wait in the coldly sleek waiting area and pulled out his sketch pad. He started sketching the lobby before he forgot some of the elements he wanted to capture. The offices on this floor were all imitation wood paneling, and had probably been updated in the eighties or early nineties, they had none of the grandeur of the three story lobby with the Egyptian influenced so popular in the twenties.

He got lost in the drawing until someone put their hand on his shoulder and he looked up.

“Justin?” The man was tall, taller than Emmett, with skin a slightly deeper café au lait than Daphne’s. And surprisingly young, given how long law school took he looked to be about Todd’s age,

“Chris? Sorry about that, I can get absorbed. Your building is beautiful.” Justin said as he stood and shook hands with him.

They went into Chris’ office and Justin handed over the contracts. He gave him a verbal overview of what they had agreed on while Chris took notes. Chris glanced over the paperwork and asked if he could leave them and pick them up tomorrow.

“Sure. Do I pay you now?” Justin asked, and added, “And can I sign them myself – I’m seventeen.

“Is there a problem at home?” Chris said.

“Not to bend you ear but Dad really doesn’t want a gay son, and if I don’t go to Dartmouth I don’t go anywhere,” Justin said, “I’m out and loud and CMU bound. I may have to finance it with the second run if he disowns me and I would rather not have his name on any contracts.”

“Well Pennsylvania lists 18 as the age of consent but you can be emancipated,” Chris said.

Justin sighed, “I don’t get it my bank lets me manage my own checking and savings accounts without a parent, I formed a sole proprietorship for my artwork without a parent.”

“Can you support yourself?” Chris asked,

Justin said, “If I have to, I can sleep at my studio – I don’t own it but my sponsor will let me stay there if my dad throws me out. I’ll make it. This has been a long time coming – I’m thinking he’s had enough and it’s coming any day now. Be honest. If either of my parents signs this will they control the money?”

“They would until you’re eighteen,” Chris said. “However, for contracts, if the History Center lets you sign they would not be able to force you to comply but you would still be able to hold them to what they agree to.”

“I’ve already supplied them with what they need for my end of the deal, there’s no risk for them,” Justin said. “So if you say they’re good and I sign them, they pay me not my dad?”

“Do you have your account information, I can put that in here that all payments go there,” Chris said.

Before Justin left he wrote a check for four hundred dollars and considered it money well spent. As he waited for a bus on Grant Street his mother pulled up and said, “Get in the car.”

Justin got in and sat in rush hour traffic, they hit every red light and his mother was getting more and more upset. He pulled out his sketch pad and started working on his lobby sketch, figuring the bumper to bumper traffic at 5:30 served her right. Ten minutes later they had moved three blocks and his mother finally broke and said, “Say something.”

“I told you so,” he singsong, “but no you *knew better*, why let me bus when you could be *in control*. Enjoy your control and the traffic.” He went back to drawing.

“Justin you can’t just leave school,” she said.

“My mother told me yesterday she was getting me an early dismissal. Was I wrong for leaving or wrong for believing you?” He said.

“Justin,” she said, “why must you make everything harder?”

“So what you’re saying is, if I just weren’t me, your life would be better,” he said.

“We all have to do things; we don’t want to that’s just life,” she said.

Justin said, “I get one life. I’m not going to waste it forcing myself into someone else’s expectation. I am going to be me: no excuses; no regrets; no apologies.”

“No one is trying to make you something you’re not,” she said, “but please, understand this is scary for me.”

“A wise man once told me that ‘it’s scarier choosing your own path than doing what’s expected of you’,” Justin said.

“Is that something your father said?” she asked.

Justin couldn’t stop laughing the whole way home.

+

He was home and changed before his father so he missed that queen out. The next day his mother called in an early dismissal and he picked up and signed his portion of the new contract which contained where the payment should be made to and had his signature witnessed and notarized by Chris’ assistant. It was three o’clock when he made it to the History Center with the contracts.

He went back in the staff area and tapped on the open door to Mr. Ferris’ office and the man looked up and said, “Justin. Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, I just wanted to get this to you. You sounded pressed for time when we last talked. It’s signed and notarized; the only thing my lawyer changed was to include the account information to make the deposits to.”

“Your mother didn’t sign them?” the man asked as he stood and took the envelop with the contract in it.

Justin smiled and said, “My lawyer advised me that this was legal and in my best interest. He said that since you have everything of mine already the Center wouldn’t be at risk, but advised me to wait until I was eighteen, rather than bring a third party into the chain.”

Mr. Ferris looked at the letterhead of the firm Chris worked for and said, “Is this you lawyer or your father’s?”

“Mine. I felt using my father’s lawyer could be a conflict of interest down the line,” Justin said.

“This is unusual,” Mr. Ferris said.

Justin nodded, “I agree. My lawyer assured me though that I was the one assuming the risk here. Personally sir, I want the relationship to be between me and the Center, not the Center and my parents. My parents aren’t artists and have nothing to offer the Center once I’m eighteen. If my father had his way, I would never have been able to paint the girls or let you show them. I will be creating for the rest of my life, on my own terms. This could be the start of long and profitable relationship for all of us.”

“Your parents could break this contract,” he said.

Justin nodded and said, “You have my word that if they try, I’ll emancipate myself and stop it.”

“When do you turn eighteen?” he asked.

“March,” Justin said and added, “I’ll wait to authorize until then, if you want to avoid the risk, but if you enter into a separate agreement with my parents for my work I will fight it as soon as I’m legal.”

In the end Mr. Ferris accepted the contract and said he would mail the signed document to Justin. Justin gave him his mailbox address and requested it be sent where his bank statement and business mail went. He stopped at Redstone on the way home and found his grandmother along with Bertie and the girls on the veranda, where the heaters were taking the fall chill out of the air. He had told her about the lithography’s and now shared the news about the contracts.

Once the excitement died down and the girls gave him some privacy with Bertie and Elizabeth by moving nearer to the door way, Justin said, “I think Mom is going to out me to Dad this weekend.”

“What makes you say that?” Bertie asked.

Justin sighed and answered, “She said she was. Well she wanted to tell him earlier this week and I negotiated to get enough time to get the contract squared away. My time is up. She’s sure he’ll understand.”

Elizabeth made a rude noise which made Justin grin, because he was not the only one Stella had left a lasting impression on. Elizabeth said, “That man doesn’t have an understanding bone in his body. She’s just scared – she doesn’t want to deal with this by herself and thinks he’ll handle it for her.”

“I really don’t get that. I spend most of my time, trying to get a modicum of control over my life; I can’t comprehend wanting to give that up,” Justin said.

“You know you can stay at the Squirrel Hill house, I’ll have the utilities turned on,” Bertie said.

Justin said, “Thank you, I may need it but I’ll pay for the utili-”

“Don’t be a mashugana,” Bertie said, “I have a trust that takes care of the place; its better someone’s living there, keeps it from becoming a crack house.”

“You’re the best, thanks.” Justin said. “Maybe Mom will chicken out, she hates conflict.”

The conversation moved on and Justin told them he was thinking of doing a small series of pencil drawing on historic Pittsburgh, doing some library research and sketching some of the building exteriors and lobbies, like the William Penn or the Gulf Building. He showed them the partially done sketch of Chris’ lobby and Bertie gave him the names of some of the older buildings outside of the downtown area that were worth checking out and mentioned things like roof top gardens and indoor greenhouses that the general public didn’t know where part of the Pittsburgh city scape.

His mother called and didn’t believe him when he said where he was so he handed the phone to Elizabeth and whispered to Bertie, “She thinks I’m banging my lawyer. He’s totally straight and a friend of Todd’s – who if you ever wondered is straight too. I wish I was having the amount of sex she thinks I am.”

Bertie laughed and had to reach for his oxygen; once he was breathing normally said, “Stella always said if she could have had children she’s have wanted you for a son.”

“Stell would have been an awesome Mom,” Justin said.

“Jennifer, would you just trust that you’ve raised the boy right. You would think it would be a weight off your mind, if you can’t talk him in to something using all the emotional blackmail and manipulation no one else is going to make him do something he doesn’t want to,” Elizabeth said, not really raising her voice but being very firm.

“Thank you,” Justin said, causing Bertie to chuckle again.

After she ended the call she handed Justin his phone and said, “She would like you to come home for dinner.”

“Thanks for everything you guys, it helps to come here and vent,” He kissed his grandmother’s cheek and said good bye to Bertie and the rest of the girls. Looking back as he left he saw them all clustering around to be updated on the Taylor family drama. If nothing else he was an endless source of entertainment for them. He really hoped he got to introduce Brian someday. Stell would have eaten him up, but the rest of the girls would fawn all over him.

It was a little over a month until Gus would be born and he would need to be on that corner at ten at night or close to it. He’d written out as much as he remembered and practiced it in the bathroom mirror of his studio, where no one could see him being an idiot. As the day got closer and closer he was sure he was going to blow it. He could just imagine Brian taking out a restraining order against him. So many things had been changed; it occasionally left him trembling with fear.

He walked the few blocks to his parents’ house from the bus stop and headed up to his room to change out of his uniform. He’d banished the yoga pants and anything else that made his father look twitchy to the studio. Justin thought if he was thrown out he could probably move the rest of his stuff in one trip if Daphne could get the car. Given his father worked retail and was often out of the house if his mother was okay he could come back and get it. Anything valuable, his digital camera, computer, speaker system were kept at the studio all summer, and his phone and iPod were always with him.

Once in a tee shirt and a pair of beat up cargo pants, Justin went down to graze before dinner. His mother was watching him warily and he asked, “Is Dad home?”

“He’s working late,” she said.

Justin helped himself to one of the rolls she had just taken out of the oven and asked, “Do you believe him?”

“What?” his mother asked.

“Dad, do you believe him when he says he’s working late?” Justin asked.

“Justin,” she said her disappointment evident.

“I’m only asking because when I say, I’m at the Highlands, you don’t believe me until I put Elizabeth on the phone, so does Dad have to prove he’s at work?” Justin said.

She sighed and said, “Justin you’re father doesn’t lie to me.”

“He’s a man, he lies every time you ask him what he’s thinking and he doesn’t say sex,” Justin said.

She snorted and then asked, “Have you lied to me?”

“Someone told me ‘It’s not lying if they make you lie. If the only truth they can accept is their own.’” Justin said, “You want me to lie to you. You want me to say I never think about sex. You want me to go through the motions and live a life of quiet desperation. But that won’t work with Dad, he will issue an ultimatum and I’ll have to emancipate.”

“Justin, no, he won’t,” she said.

Justin shrugged and said, “You and I must be living with different people.”

That Saturday Justin went downtown to the area around the old jail to sketch and to get out of the house since his mom planned to talk to his dad. He had two new pads and a fresh box of pencils. He figured it would be too cold soon to sit outside for hours and then he would get the interiors and check photos in the library.

When he came home for dinner his father was looking around his room. Justin wasn’t worried he’d cleared it of any incriminating evidence long ago. In fact he wondered if his father would realize how little of his stuff he still kept here.

“Where’s your laptop,” his dad asked.

Justin tossed his messenger bag on his bed and said, “It’s not here. Is your computer down?”

“But where is it?” Craig asked.

“I keep it at the studio, I mostly use it for art so why haul it around,” Justin said. He knew his dad wanted to look for porn and since the last time he’d learned to keep any stuff he didn’t want Craig trashing elsewhere.

“I don’t want you going over there anymore,” Craig said.

Justin said, “I need the space and light.”

“You’ll do what I tell you,” Craig said.

“Is this about art? Are you telling me to stop creating?” Justin asked, “Or is it about something else.”

“You come straight home after school every day, no going to your friends, or that retirement home or this studio - that you never asked if you could use,” Craig said. “There will be no more overnights with Daphne and no more dressing like some-”

“Are you seriously telling me that Mom’s mom is a bad influence? That you intend to cut me off from every person I know, including family?” Justin said and he heard a creak in the hall that meant either Mom or Molly was out there listening.

“I am your father; I’m doing what’s best for you. Just stop this nonsense,” Craig said.

Justin said, “There’s nothing to stop. Being gay, it’s like being white, I don’t do anything; I just am.”

“You’re not gay,” Craig said.

Justin said, “I swear to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt I am so very *very* gay.”

“Shut up!” he said. “You’re a kid. You don’t know what you’re talking about; someone has turned your head and made you think you’re gay-”

“Like someone made you think you’re straight? You knew when you were in sixth grade you liked girls. Grandma Taylor told me you had a sweetheart. No one talked you into it, when you were my age girls were all you thought about and if your father told you to stop, to never think about them again, to resign yourself to a life of only screwing men, you would have walked out and never come back because that’s no way to live. It’s weak and it’s cruel to whoever gets stuck with someone so far in the closet that they lie even to themselves,” Justin said, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. “I’ve known for years. Everyone has known for years. I’ve endured the ridicule and the abuse and I’m stronger for it. I’m strong enough to tell everyone to fuck off; I don’t care what they think. But for some reason I care what you think; because you’re my dad. I wish I didn’t but I do. It makes it harder because I know you’d rather have a dead son than a gay son.”

“That’s not true,” Craig said

“You want to put me under house arrest all because you think I might get laid,” Justin said. “And I will, no matter what you do. And I shouldn’t be ashamed. A healthy sex life is as important as good diet and exercise.”

“You’re breaking your mother’s heart,” Craig said.

Justin laughed a tired almost sob of a sound, “Wow, emotional blackmail, that’s more Mom’s territory, you usually just yell at me. You should probably stick with your strengths.”

“I am so tired of your smart mouth,” Craig said.

Justin said, “What you’re tired of is me not letting you control me, control how I think, how I feel. You know you never really control the people around you, you can only control yourself.”

The fight raged on and finally his mother who had been lurking out in the hall tried to step in and suggest family counseling. Justin didn’t even have to balk at it with the way his father flew off the handle and before he knew it his parents were fighting with each other, at first in his room and then out in the hall, presumably so he wouldn’t overhear. While their attention was off him he gathered up more of his school uniforms and packed them with the clothes he wore yesterday in his suitcase. He looked around for anything else before putting his phone and iPod chargers in his messenger bag and stashing it and the suitcase behind his door until the ultimatum came.

He didn’t have Brian here to sweep him out like some knight in a designer suit, but he called Daphne and asked if she could get the car and wait on the street in case this was it. It took a good half hour more before Craig started the ‘not in my house’ or the ‘while your under my roof you’ll do what I say’ declarations.

With his mother crying in the background Justin had nodded, and said, “I understand.” And then he went back into his room, got his suitcase, backpack and messenger bag and walked out the front door for the last time. Molly had been peeking out from behind the living room sofa, eyes wide. Justin wiggled his fingers in a wave that his body hid from his parent who were still standing at the top of the stairs and mouthed, bye, to her. He heard the fighting start up again when he gently closed the front door before slipping down the walk to Daphne’s waiting car.

His parent’s voices were barely discernable from the street, unless you knew what to listen for. But Daphne was wide-eyed when she asked, “How bad?”

“It went according to script,” Justin sighed. “I’m so glad I’m not likely to be a parent, because when you love the people, I told you so, is not any fun at all. Mom is learning I know her husband better than she does. I give it six months tops and they’ll file for divorce.”

“Do you want to come to my place,” She asked, pulling away from his house.

Justin asked, “Can I, just for tonight? Bertie made a call and the utilities are coming on, but we’re going to be up all night talking and you’re parents will not let you come to spend the night in my bachelor pad without repeated assurances that I like cock.”

“Don’t explain it to my mother like that,” Daphne said.

“Have you eaten? The very least I can do is take you out, this is like the adult equivalent to coming down in the middle of the night to post my bail,” Justin said.

Daphne laughed and said, “Let’s just agree for you to not get arrested and we’ll call it even. Not all of us have your income stream - call Bertie to post your bail.”

“You know I spent most of the summer worried he wouldn’t live to see the show, it never occurred to me we’d lose Stell first,” Justin said, “I love you Daphne Chanders. You’re my best friend and I don’t know if I would have made it through – high school, life, just one day after another without you. I didn’t want to not say that, to always think I have another day when I could say it.”

“Do not make me cry while I’m driving!” she hissed and added, “I love you too. Now stop being a drama queen, no one is going to die. Unless you make me cry and I kill us both by driving when I can’t see.”

They hit Sheetz for chilly dogs, gooey mac and cheese, fries and slushies. He remembered to swear her to secrecy at school about the fact he was no longer at home by explaining that if everyone knew he had his own place they would pressure him to host parties - or followed him home and bash him. Daphne promised to come break the news at brunch tomorrow.

It wasn’t too late when they slipped into the Chanders’ house. Justin left his suitcase in the car and brought clean underwear and a tee shirt in his messenger bag. But even at ten thirty, when they got back to Daphne’s place, her parents were already in bed – if not asleep.

Justin headed for the guest room and Daphne said, “Stay with me, we can talk.”

“What did your mother ever do to you?” Justin asked.

Daphne smiled and said, “But it’s okay; you’re gay.”

“I still have sperm. It’s my sperm you’re mother doesn’t like. I think she’s okay with you having sex, just not getting pregnant,” he reasoned.

“No its sex of any kind,” Daphne’s dad said, appearing in the doorway to the master suite wearing a red terry bath robe.

“Sorry Mr. Chanders, Justin said.

At the same time Daphne blurted, “Justin’s dad threw him out because he’s gay.”

“Surprise? It’s just for tonight, sir, I have a place lined up, I just needed Daph and lots of greasy high carb food,” Justin said.

Daphne’s dad nodded in understanding and said, “Stay as long as you like. In the guest room,” he added before he turned and went back into his room.

“Brunch tomorrow; get some sleep,” Justin said and slipped in the familiar guest suite.

Brunch as Redstone the next day was a welcome routine. And Justin got to fulfill his role in entertaining the ladies with his ongoing family drama. Daphne was hailed a hero and the girls got a kick out of her coming to his rescue.

Bertie said the water would be on the next day when the caretaker would stop in to turn the main valve in the basement. Apparently they had just closed the valve and not disconnected the service. Justin hadn’t even been aware there was a basement; apparently it was just a laundry room and the water heater, furnace, fuse box and things like that. There was already a Murphy bed in the second bedroom and when Bertie offered to get furniture out of storage, Justin said the bed was all he needed really. Which given he’d moved his computer, camera; IPod and Bose sound system in long ago was probably true.


	10. Oh, fantasy free me

His mother met him after school on Monday and Justin was dreading a trip to the shrink. Glancing in the back seat he saw she had the clothes he’d left in her laundry and a few items, like a laundry basket filled not only with soap and fabric softener but staples like pasta and canned tomato sauce. Obviously Elizabeth had let her know where he was staying. After riding in silence for a while and because they were not heading toward Squirrel Hill, which wasn’t that far from his school, Justin asked, “You’re not taking me to one of those aversion therapy centers when they strap me down for electric shock treatments until I renounce cock are you?”

“Justin!” She said.

Justin sighed and said, “Where are we going Mom?”

“I made and appointment for us to talk to someone,” she said

Justin contemplated repeatedly banging his head on the dashboard, before saying, “Was this decision impacted by how well we all talked to each other Saturday?”

She started, “Your father-”

“Is not coming right? He’s washed his hands of the matter and when I am good and ready to crawl back and beg his forgiveness for not being the son he wanted, and when I do he’ll think about stepping on me while I’m down, Right?” Justin said.

“He’ll be there,” she said.

Justin wished there were a way to get her to put money on that. When they arrived at a small former mini mall that had been converted into a professional building they went to a door past the dentist and optometrist that just said therapist, no name. The counselor was the same underqualified breeder she’d made an appointment with last time. However, things had changed – he wasn’t going to sulk or pout on the couch. If he could channel enough vitriol and some Brian Kinney truism maybe he could make them both cry.

“Justin, do you know why you’re here today,” the counselor said without even introducing herself. He was pretty sure she hadn’t last time but back then he didn’t know how unprofessional it was. It felt like he was being addressed by a school principal

“Yes, I do.” Justin said, he stood straight in front of her and didn’t sit on the low couch, while she perched on a high stool in some pathetic bid to make him relinquish power.

Silence stretched, he calmly met the woman’s gaze with a careful pleasantly neutral expression on his face. The woman finally asked, “Can you tell me why you’re here today?”

“I am capable of stating the events which brought me here. I don’t know if I should. First I don’t even know your name or why you want to know these events. While my mother says you a therapist, I don’t know why you feel qualified to assist in this matter. But let’s pretend you are; let’s pretend you have the training to understand my rejection of a heteronormative lifestyle. Let’s pretend this is about my sexuality and the disruption to my family it has caused. Let’s pretend that by talking this all out you can somehow fix me.”

Justin continued, “While we’re pretending that we’ll ignore that every reputable psychological study done within the past 25 years emphatically states that a person's sexual orientation is determined by the age of six, sometimes before birth, and it's completely unalterable.”

“My mother is distraught,” He said, “for a number of reasons. She gave up a large portion of her identity and her life to make a home and family. She traded her independence and control over her path in life to have a partner, in my father, who would take up the burden that accompanies making decisions for yourself. It was okay, because if something went bad or she was disappointed – well at least it wasn’t her bad decision, it was his. Now after giving him her youth and years of devotion, she’s figured out that this man isn’t who she thought he was. What she saw as a gift to him, be it her independence, the children of her body or the thousands of times he’s disappointed her and she’s smiled though it, he saw not as a gift but as his due. Something she owed him and only partial payment of the debt he has kept a running tally on since the day he met her. The only way he can feel big is to make her feel small, and it’s not enough anymore. Like any addiction the need grows and controlling her isn’t enough, now he wants to control me.”

“But I owe someone more important than Craig Taylor,” Justin said. “I owe myself. I owe myself an unflinching, uncompromising life – because I only get one; we all only get one. And I won’t trade a part of myself for safety or comfort or the illusion that someone else can take care of me. Because in the end, I am all I have.”

“Right now, I’m a wolf gnawing its leg off to escape a trap. Is it worth it? I’m better off without that leg than the other wolf that chooses a slow death by hoping someone will let it go. If nothing else, my little sister will see that there’s an alternative available. That if the choice is to embrace his hate, to hate herself, she can choose to walk away,“ Justin said and turned to face his mother, “Is it your turn to talk now?”

He had an unfair advantage. At seventeen he hadn’t known what was going on and even blamed himself for his parents break up. But over the years, once she stopped seeing him as a child his Mom had gone in depth about what had gone wrong with her marriage and the things she had kept from the children. Sometimes over too many glasses of wine she’d tell him things she hadn’t had anyone else to tell. The things he’d lived through made him a confidant who she felt stood on more equal ground. She never had stopped treating Molly like a kid, but after what Justin had lived though she had finally realized he’d grown up.

Now his mother leaned against the back wall crying and like always he was powerless. He walked over and put his arms around her and she sobbed. He looked over her shoulder at the therapist and said, “Why don’t you go and get her a cold bottle of water.”

“We’re on the clock,” she said.

“So earn your money, for what you’re charging her, the least you owe her is a hike to the vending machine in the hall,” he said.

The therapist left and Justin let his Mom cry, he reaches over and snagged the tissue box from the edge of the desk. The box he’d originally thought was overly optimistic. “You’re being overcharged,” he said. “Don’t tell me she’s the daughter of someone at the club?”

“Justin, you were very rude to her,” His mother said as she wiped her eyes.

Justin snorted and said, “I’m seventeen and before I started talking I saw five separate things she was doing wrong. And if Craig hears about what was covered today in the changing room at the golf course, you won’t need a divorce he’ll have a fucking aneurism.”

“Justin, your language; and I’m not divorcing your father,” she said.

“I know,” he said, “which is why it’s better that I’ve moved out. You can deal with dad and you and your marriage and not focus on the drama my being there creates. And, I can date without worrying my old man will kick someone to death because he thinks we’re – in lieu of your delicate sensibilities, let’s call it, making love.”

“Justin your father would never-” she started.

He cut her off and said, “No. I’ve earned this. I have called his reaction to this. I practically scripted it for you. So just once, give me credit that at least in regard to me, I know him better then you.”

The therapist came back into the room and handed his mom the bottle and said, “Well, I think we’ve made some real progress today. When would you like to schedule another session?”

“Not if you paid me,” Justin said while his mom wrote out a check. “Listen, I’ll give you this for free. Get some light in here, not overhead lighting, shaded lamps scattered around. Loose this low couch and that stool. You look like a judge, jury and executioner looming over people. Stop crossing your legs and keeping your body language closed off. Look people in the eye, and if you have talked about them with family or other doctors before meeting them – don’t make it so obvious, you’re just erecting more walls. Always introduce yourself, however you want to be addressed by your clients – either Miss; Ms; Mrs; or if, however unlikely, Dr. Do not presume intimacy with your clients – let them tell you what they want to be called, until I tell you differently I am Mr. Taylor. If you deal with minors, don’t treat them like inanimate objects. Just because they can’t vote or join the military doesn’t mean you can grill them without so much as a by your leave or how do you do.”

“You’re right I should have introduced myself, my name is Dr. Kaufmann, but please feel free to call me Lorraine.”

“Todd’s wife?” Justin laughed, “Feel free to entertain him with the whole story. He’ll just get it third hand from Bertie and Elizabeth anyway; and you can call me Justin.”

As his mother drove him to his studio, he asked, “Are you going to keep seeing Lorraine?”

“Justin this is about you,” she said.

“I removed myself from the equation,” he said. “But if you need to talk to someone and you feel she’s helping you, why not?”

“It’s expensive,” she said.

Justin smiled and said, “If dad complains about the cost of therapy, tell him he should just stop driving your crazy.”

He carried the stuff in from his mom’s back seat and despite her having been there before she prowled around the house. While he was hanging clothes in the closet of the second bedroom – the middle sized one not the one that would barely have held a crib, changing table and rocking chair and not the parents’ bedroom where he’d painted the large 12 by 15 canvas.

“We have that old recliner in the basement and I can get you a table and chairs,” his mother started.

Justin stuck his head out of the bed room and said, “No. I don’t want to clutter the place up; I need the space that’s why I came here originally.

“Justin you can’t live with no furniture,” his mother said.

“All I really need are new sheets,” he said. “There’s a Murphy bed in the bedroom I’m using – which is about the same size of a dorm room I would have to share with someone if I was in college – it’s a full. I didn’t even know that was a size – king and queen I’ve heard of but full? Full of what?”

“That was a popular size at the time this house would have been built,” she said. “Any requests? Specific color?”

“Not flannel, dark; one hundred percent Egyptian cotton, no less than 800 thread count,” he answered absently and then looked up at her stunned face and said, “you son’s a fag – some of these things we’re just endowed with.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call yourself that,” she said.

“I’m owning the word. That’s what Dad calls me,” he said. “I’m taking it back. I am going to be the best fag I can be.”

“Justin if this was happening when you were twenty one I would be completely supportive of you,” she said. “But you’re only seventeen.”

Justin hugged her, because she looked like she might start crying again and said, “So your solution is I should hate myself for the next four years, until it’s convenient for you to be supportive?”

“No that’s not what I meant,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, “and I love Dad that’s why it hurts so much. But I have to love myself too and loving myself means I have to do what is best for me. And I can’t be - ashamed of loving me. And you shouldn’t be ashamed of loving yourself. You should always do what’s best for you.” Justin pulled back until they were forehead to forehead, “Listen to me. Are you listening? I know you have Molly and you’re in the same position with her that you are with me; you want to do what is best for us. But when you fly on an airplane and they give you the safety spiel – as a parent you’re told to put the oxygen mask on yourself first, the reasoning being is you can‘t save your kid, if you don’t save yourself first.”

There were more tears and one thing he found that he didn’t have at the studio was tissues. He did, thanks to his mother, have toilet paper - so that worked. They walked up to the little sushi place Stell had liked and his mom bought him dinner. And then she dropped him at Redstone because she’d left Molly with their grandmother before the appointment. Upon their arrival, Molly, obviously possessed by a demon, ran up and hugged him.

Molly asked, “Are you coming home?”

“I thought you always wanted to be and only child?” Justin asked.

His grandmother motioned his mom over and they were seated in one of the conversation areas by a fireplace. So Justin took a knee in front of his sister and asked, “What’s up, Mollusk? Are you okay?”

“Dad threw you out, he told you to leave.” She said.

Justin listened and waited for more but that was all she said, “Do you think that means he might throw you out?” She nodded. The big exaggerated nod of a kid that reminded him of Gus at this age; so he said, “Moll, you have so many people who love you. More than just Dad; me, Mom, Gram, no matter how mad Dad gets – even if he did throw you out, which is unlikely, cause despite the funny odor you’re kind of cute. But if he did, you would live with one of us.”

“Even you?” she asked.

Justin nodded and said, “But *I* would make you bathe more frequently.”

“Mom! Justin said I smell,” she ran back to their mom and grandmother, startling the two of them and asking when they could go home.

After Molly and his mom left, he had tea and pie by the fire with Bertie and his grandmother. Well they had tea and he had tea and both their pieces of pie.

“Honey, what did you say to your sister,” his grandmother asking.

Justin though about playing clueless and instead said, “I told her that no matter how mad Dad got, he wasn’t going to throw her out and if he did she could come stay with me.”

“That’s what she was upset about?” she said. “How did you know?”

“She hugged me – we’re bitter rivals, if hugs are involved there’s something up and well, she was hiding behind the couch Saturday night when the fit hit the shan. When I left, Mom and Dad were still yelling. I wonder if she ended up sleeping back there?” Justin mused.

“Could that have happened?” Bertie said exchanging a concerned look with Elizabeth.

“Molly’s pretty good at flying under the radar,” Justin said. Since Bertie still looked nonplus Justin said, “Since you’ve been teaching me a second language, let me give you a crash course in WASPs.” His grandmother covered her face with both hands. “We’re like swans, serene and calm above water, frantically paddling below. Most of us start to believe that as long as we can maintain the illusion that everything is perfect, that it is. I just shattered that fun house mirror. They either need to scramble to put up a new illusion or they’re going to sink into the mud and have to rebuild in reality. Right now, Mom doesn’t know which she wants, the real world or the pretend. Molly didn’t know any of it was an illusion, and now she does. And Dad is trying to put the shattered mirror together with a hammer.”

“Stella will never be gone from this world while he’s in it,” Bertie said and poked his grandmother until she lowered her hands that were hiding her blush.

“Maybe I should look for a nice Irish Catholic boy,” Justin said. “Don’t they tend to be brutally honest and grounded in reality with dark sardonic senses of humor?”


	11. So you can't see me

Justin hit the alarm and rolled out of his bed. It was set for 8 PM, and he’d forced himself to take a nap after school. Living at his studio wasn’t bad at all. It was a shorter bus ride from school, when Daphne didn’t drive and it was closer to his grandmother’s retirement community. The burden of doing his own laundry and feeding himself were well worth the privacy. And after living in some crappy walk ups and hauling laundry out to laundromats or scary serial-killer-haven basements of some of his apartment buildings in New York being able to run a load in his basement and go back to his art or even homework was sheer heaven.

The calendar, with Gus’ birthday outlined in red was posted on the fridge with a magnet and the days were all marked off with Xs. As it had loomed closer to the wire more panic attacks were setting it. It was everything and yet, every day at school he saw changes, people doing different things, things they’d never done or said the first time. Just that day at school one of the deeply closeted kids, who Justin hadn’t even known was gay until his tenth year reunion – and hadn’t walking in to that with Brian been a fucking victory march – had been suspended for kicking a football player in the nads and calling him a homophobe. That had been the talk of the school, and yet Justin was positive it had never happened the last time. So what would happen the night he met Brian? Would Brian even be there? What if because of something Justin did that he didn’t even realize he did, he caused new or different people to be at Babylon that night and Brian left with someone before he even saw him.

Justin had spent most nights of the past week or so at the Carnegie Library’s main branch, a convenient five minute bus ride towards Oakland going through their photo archive. Daphne had come along twice. While having her with him was detrimental to his drawing; she was great for brainstorming and helping to pick which photos to use in his research for the pencil series he was doing on older buildings. He was probably going overboard on the series, just like he was going overboard on his SAT prep. All of it was to distract him from the countdown to Brian. He hadn’t even marked what that day was circled for and when his mother brought Molly to visit and see where he was living he’d told them it was to remind him that a speaker was going to be on campus and he wanted to attend.

He was working out compulsively and drawing compulsively and spent two hours last Saturday trying to talk himself out of staking out the gym Brian worked out at, or the baths or just hang out in front of the loft. The only reason he came up with was that he made it this far, the goal was in sight so he’d started to map out a ground work of how to keep Daphne, Bertie and Elizabeth – and maybe his mother, from noticing when all his time would be consumed with stalking Brian. He just had a lot more commitments and social ties than he did the first time, of course he also already knew Brian’s routines and his network of friends so that would save time.

Despite his full schedule he was doing much better at school. Apparently he wasted a lot of time stressing over being closeted at home the last time. He’d been convinced that since he hadn’t used any of the stuff he was learning at school after graduating the first time he would have forgotten it. But it was like a review, the actual information seemed to stick better; easier than the last time. His grades were higher now and despite the days he’d left early his attendance was better; he’d forgotten that pre-Brian he’d often cut out after a particular embarrassing slur or public attack. Now he attacked back, and if he could hold his own against New York cab drivers he could verbally eviscerated teenagers and wage-slave faculty members in his sleep – no wonder his mother was upset about his smart mouth.

Mr. Dixon still tried to subtly intimidate him; so subtle that the first time through he’d missed it until the prick had been so blatantly obvious in his refusal to acknowledge slurs. Not being a drama princess this time through, if Dixon was ever so blatant again Justin would calmly go to the principal’s office and advise him of the matter. Of course the principal was just as bad, but this time when the man said he was not aware of any harassment or bullying. Justin planned to advise him of how concerning that was not just to him as a member of the student body but parents as well and that if his teachers couldn’t keep order and he was so out of touch as to not realize that students whom he was responsible for were in danger that the trustees of the private school’s board should be advised of the liability to which they were being exposed.

Justin couldn’t remember if Columbine had happened yet and made a mental note to check online next time he was on his computer. He did remember that when it did happen he had been shocked at how many of the students were in denial about anything like that happening in their school.

Justin had filed for emancipation. Doing it now would make him eligible for loans and grants which would be based upon his and not his parents’ income. He had remained in contact with the faculty he’d met at CMU during the summer program and was able to obtain an ID that let him use some of the campus facilities based upon his previous attendance and his indication that he intended to enroll once he graduated from high school. That opened up a wealth of information, materials and facilities that would have cost him a fortune in the real world; he was beginning to understand why it was referred to as the womb of academia. It would be pretty easy to get spoiled with the access to all that and the easy excepting attitude that the campus had to openly gay students.

The past few weeks had only had one major crisis and no one but Justin knew about it. He’d run into, although not literally, Ben at the library. They had just passed in a corridor while Justin was returning from checking out photos from the archives. Justin had bolted with his photos and sketch pad into one of the tiny private study rooms and ended up sitting on the floor with his stuff dumped on the chair and just sobbed. He had no idea when Ben contracted HIV. It wasn’t like he could walk up like some Time Lord and as a seventeen-year-old ramble off some PSA that would have any more impact than all the other information sexually active gay men were exposed to. He might already have it; or he might get it tonight. How would he handle looking him in the eye when they met knowing he could have done something; that is if there was anything he could do? He might really have been thirty three, but right now, Justin felt about twelve.

The door opened and Justin realized he’d forgotten to flip the occupied sign. He looked up and there he was, Professor Buckner who said, “Sorry, ah, are you all right?”

“My fault, faggot drama queen, we’re everywhere,” Justin said with a wave of his wrist, which he followed up by wiping his eyes on the long sleeve of his tee shirt.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ben asked.

Justin looked up and glared with red swollen eyes and said, “Yeah. You can. Never ever *ever* have unprotected sex. No matter how much he loves you; no matter how much you love him. Monogamy is something breeders invented to consolidate estate management for their offspring. Because you can’t love anyone unless you love yourself – and if you think burying someone you love is hard. Imagine how hard it will be on everyone who loves you. You can’t love anyone if you don’t love yourself and you can’t protect anyone unless you protect yourself.”

“Um, okay,” Ben said.

“That’s the end of my PSA, you can go,” Justin said.

“Are you sure you’re alright,” Ben asked.

Justin nodded and asked, “Are you sure you are, Professor Bruckner?”

“Have we met?” Ben asked.

Justin shook his head and said, “No. Sorry. Bad night.”

“Would you?” And Ben stopped and said, “We could get coffee, if you want to talk?”

Justin laughed and said, “I’m seventeen.”

Ben’s eyes widened and he said, “No. I didn’t mean.”

“Yes you did,” Justin said, “You’re a gay man in your prime, which means you think about sex every nine minutes. Regardless of if you’re in a committed relationship or not and unless there’s something wrong with your partner, so does he. And one little oops can kill you both.” Justin stood and gathered his things and said, “I’m not getting any work done tonight – sorry for going off on you.”

“Did you lose someone,” Ben asked.

Justin said, “Yeah, and I’m mad as hell at him but you can’t be angry at someone who died, right? It’s not like he wanted to die. But I’m angry, because he was a fucking adult, who should have taken control of his life and taken care of himself – and then I feel guilty so I end up sobbing in a study carrel.”

As Justin left the room to Ben, Ben said, “I am sorry.”

“Yeah, me too,” Justin said, “have a good night, Professor.”

He actually hadn’t been back to the library since then. It had been almost five years since they lost Ben, when Brian died. Ironically, it hadn’t directly been AIDS but Ben had been biking as part of his fitness regime and been struck by a car, which in turn sent him into oncoming traffic. Fortunately, the girls had moved back to Pittsburgh by then with the kids and between Brian and the kids, they had pulled Michael though the emotional upheaval, the same as they did when they lost Deb.

He wondered when it was that Brian had slept with Ben; he knew it was at the White Party but which one, which year. Because seriously those two would have been hot together, and it wasn’t like he and Brian hadn’t shared tricks before. Was there a term for banging a friend’s future husband? As long as he was looking for things to do instead of blow the last nine months waiting by showing up on Brian’s door step and jumping him he should have started working on some form of time travel dictionary.

He had his iPod plugged into his speaker and was dancing around to vintage Sinatra when there was a knock at the door.

It was Daphne and she came in and sprawled in the only seating besides his bed; the built in banquet in the breakfast room. They tended to congregate there. Without preamble he said, “I need to put somethings in your trunk, things I need you to bring to school the tomorrow.”

“What things?” She said.

“Clothes, for me to change into and my messenger bag,” Justin said.

Daphne said, “Why can’t you dress here before school?”

“I will, if I come home; but if I don’t I want clothes to change into,” Justin said, widening his eyes significantly and nodding; waiting for her to put two and two together.

“Do you have a date?” she asked.

He snorted and said, “Daph, I’m going cruising. I’m going to go look for a ‘date’ – you know, I’m going out to get laid.”

“Are you sure you’re ready? That sounds dangerous,” she said.

He said, “If I were anymore ready I would look like Swartzenhegger, seriously it’s a good thing I’m ambidextrous or I’d be overdeveloped on one side.”

“TMI,” she said and then asked, “Promise you’ll be careful; smart and careful.”

“I will Mom,” Justin said.


	12. No not at all.

Justin was going to die. He was going to faint before he made it a block. His head was spinning, his vision was fuzzy, there was ringing in his ears and he hadn’t had a drop to drink or taken any drugs. He’d tried to visualize and write out as much of this night as he could remember. He’d rehearsed it in front of a mirror and even meditated. And he hadn’t been this much of a mess as a real seventeen year old virgin walking down Liberty Avenue. However, now that the moment he’d waited for, the night he’d been counting down to since he woke up to relive his seventeenth birthday, was here he was a fucking basket case. Brian would take one look at him and think he was tripping out on some bad Tijuana bathtub drugs.

He stopped under the lamp post and tried to breath without hyperventilating. Justin thought he had arrived there earlier than he should but then he saw him; Brian Kinney, the face of God. Brian, the single most pivotal thing in his life, was walking toward him. Brian was prowling up the sidewalk, gorgeous - so alive, so young. It was all Justin could do not to fall to his knees. If he messed this up and how could he not. He realized when he tried to recreate what he’d been wearing that he couldn’t remember what it was but he knew he’d been dressing more like his thirty year old self than he had at seventeen. He’d purged flannel and baggy from his wardrobe shortly after his birthday. So here he was in the jeans and boots from his opening and a tight red long sleeved tee shirt, his hair was longer and he wasn’t a wide eyed innocent but he probably looked scared to death since he was. And he hoped that would be enough, maybe Brian would read that the same, because if he walked passed him if he didn’t come to him. Well, Justin would just follow him and start his stalking sooner.

“Hey,” Brian said. Had he stood this close the first time? They were practically touching from knee to shoulder; Brian looked down at him, with those unforgettable lips just a breath from his.

Justin said, “Hi.”

Brian asked him what he was planning to do and Justin said his line named some of the bars and then said he wasn’t planning to do anything special.

“Now you are,” Brian said, and took his hand. It was all Justin could do not to whoop and cheer because if nothing else Brian was pulling him back to the jeep.

Brian ditched his friends and Justin couldn’t take his eyes off him on the ride to the loft. He cataloged everything, the manicured nails; the carefully cultivated careless tousle to his hair, his thighs flexing in sinfully tight jeans. They raced up the stairs to the loft and Justin cursed himself because he should have been preparing for this in the ride over, going over his lines, instead of just staring.

“Shut the door,” Brian said as he was getting bottles of water out of the fridge.

Justin couldn’t take his eyes off of Brian and that was probably the one thing that was the same, because this man deserved his own religion. Brian asked, “Want some?”

Justin was about to turn down the drugs but Brian was holding out a bottle of water, “Yeah, thanks.”

Brian wasn’t pouring water over his head, and he was looking at Justin just as intensely as Justin was watching him. Brian’s eyes were clear, he looked alert and Justin was sure he’d been tweaked last time. Brian was looking at him like he was one moment away from throwing him down and riding him hard, which wasn’t unusual except he wasn’t taking off his clothes and was in fact; or at least seemed to be, just as nervous as Justin.

“What do you like?” Brian asked and last time they’d been naked and in bed before that.

The hair on Justin’s neck was standing up as he said, “Anything. Everything. You.”

“There’s this little problem,” Brian said.

“You’re expecting a phone call, and don’t want me to come on your duvet,” Justin ventured.

Brian made that face where he was fighting a grin and whispered brokenly, “Justin.”

“Fuck Brian,” Justin said as he launched himself. “You’re here, you’re here, you’re you. Thank God, thank God, you’re Brian.”

Justin was trembling while trying to hold on and trying to be coherent and not succeeding at either. Both of them ended up sliding down each other onto the floor, crying and laughing and talking over each other.

“I just ended up here,” Brian said. “I woke up at the fertility clinic, right after Lindsey was inseminated. They said I’d fainted, which is bull, but she was worried I’d been on drugs. I was so messed up I kept wondering how I got there and why everyone looked so young.”

“Do you think your son was conceived on my birthday?” Justin said. “I woke up on my seventeenth birthday, terrified I was going to screw up and never meet you.”

“That’s what you were worried about?” Brian said with that heartbreaking smile and teasing look in his eyes.

Justin grinned and said, “That was the single most important thing that happened in my life, you moron.”

The phone ringing startled them both and Brian got up to grab it. The call almost the same as it had been the last time.

“We’re coming back to talk after we see Gus,” Justin said as Brian was hanging up.

“We’re coming back to fuck after we see Gus,” Brian said, “no juggling or handstands this time.”

“We can fuck at the hospital if you want,” Justin said, “Are we going to cock block Michael’s hook up or do you want to save the jeep from its new paint job.”

“Think he’ll forgive me if I don’t call him?” Brian asked.

Justin walked over to him and kissed him, “It’ll give him something to whine about, besides the trick that will never leave. Because be advised Brian Kinney – I will stalk you, I will hunt you, I will be a mill stone around your neck, you will never get rid of me now – think of me as your very own personal STD.”

Brian laughed and kept an arm around Justin as they left the loft. Justin couldn’t wait to find out what changes Brian had made in the last nine months. It must have been hard going from the CEO of one of the most successful and innovative companies in town to working for someone else. He wished he’d known; he wished Brian could have met Stella.

They parked and bypassed reception, even without running they made it to the room before they had last time. Justin wished he’d brought his camera because that look of jaded wonder was the same and Brian laughing at him as he looked on mesmerized – he was painting that he was immortalizing that look of wonder.

“Who’s this?” Lindsey asked.

“This is Justin,” Brian said not even pretending this time to not know his name.

Mel asked, “Where’s Michael?”

“Michael hooked up,” Justin said and then added, “Aren’t you Ida Greene’s granddaughter?”

“That’s right we met at the burlesque tribute,” Mel said.

“I’m glad I ran into you, the works on tour right now, but I tagged that one for you, I want you to have it,” Justin said. “I’m sure Brian knows how to get in touch with you when it’s back in Pittsburgh.”

“That’s very nice but, you can’t just do that,” Mel said exchanging a look with Lindsey.

Brian finally looked up from his son and said, “He’s Justin Taylor; he kind of does what he wants.”

“You’re the artist? Lindsay said, “You’re…”

“Young?” Justin said, “Time will cure that.”

Brian called Michael and got his voice mail so the hook up must be going well. He didn’t end up on the roof or taking dubious drugs. And when Mel opened the door on Brian and Lindsey in her bed, Justin who had been just outside the room leaning against the wall said, “She’s family, better than his family, he loves her, but I can personally guarantee you have nothing to worry about – at least from Brian.”

“You know him that well?” Mel said skeptically.

Justin gave her a blinding grin and said, “hell yeah, don’t you know I’m the love of his life?”

Mel laughed at that, causing both Brian and Lindsey to look up like guilty kids. Mel took the ginger ale to Lindsey and Brian got up to leave. As he came over to Justin, Justin said, “I want to paint you.”

“What color?” Brian said with a grin.”

Justin grabbed the waist band of Brian’s jeans and pulled him forward until they were flush and kissed him. “I love you, Brian Kinney,” he murmured.

And without missing a beat Brian said, “I love you too; what was your name?”

Lindsey and Mel were in various stages of shock and Justin couldn’t stop grinning. They said their goodnights and headed back to Brian’s loft.

After they were naked and in Brian’s bed, Brian tried to recreate their first conversation and asked, “How do you feel about rimming?”

“As I recall,” Justin said, “it’s a fucking religious experience when it involves you; but then so many things are.”

And it was perhaps better than the first time; it had the same breathless anticipation without the virginal worrying. When Brian had two fingers in him lubing him up he said, “Holy Christ, Justin – Are you? Have you?”

“Yes, this body is a virgin again, shut up, just go slow and then fuck me like you just got out of prison,” He gasped, “Christ Brian, every day for nine months I’ve been jacking off to the thought of this night.”

“Justin, Justin, Justin,” Brian slid in slowly and Justin remembered that before they’d shared years and love and family, they’d had this – complimentary sexual appetites, endurance and willingness to try anything.

So they fucked all night and dozed off but Justin woke with a jerk so strong it woke Brian, who pulled him close and said, “Nightmare?”

“It’s stupid,” Justin said and felt himself tearing up and added, “it was the same when I first got back here, I was afraid, if I slept I would wake up in this empty loft and you’d be gone. You died Brian, way too young and without warning. Gus, Lindsey, Michael they were shattered, so was I.”

“I don’t have any answers, I’ve tried to figure this out and I,” Brian stopped and said, “maybe I’m dead, maybe this is heaven.”

“You’re never getting rid of me, you know that right, I don’t care if the rest of the world thinks we’ve lost our minds,” Justin said.

“Okay, here’s the plan, shower sex, and then we hit the diner, Deb should start at six. I drop you at school and then go to work, pick you up on the way home and lather, rinse, repeat” Brian said.

“How are you working for someone else, don’t you want to throw shit at them?” Justin asked and Brian laughed into his neck.

“I may have to launch Kinnetics early,” Brian said, “I just need to get fired so it breaks the non-competitive clause.”

“I’ll help. I took some classes over the summer, while trying to keep myself from stalking you,” Justin said. “I’m applying to CMU.”

“What about your art,” Brian said.

Justin rolled on top of Brian and quoted a song that wouldn’t be written for over a decade and said, “You’re my downfall, you’re my muse, my every distraction, my rhythm and blues.”

“You are ridiculously romantic,” Brian said, running his hands lightly over Justin’s shoulders and down his arms, “Have you been working out?”

“Your lips deserve sonnets, your face, your body, your cock,” Justin said, “I will always want one more night, one more day – you are my art Brian. You always have been.”

Brian pulled him down and they ended up fucking in the bed and Brian sucked him off in the shower. It felt like old times tying to dress and not able to keep their hands off each other, Brian’s hand sliding across Justin’s stomach as Justin rummaged though Brian’s drawers for clean underwear. Brian and he were exchanging updates on things that they’d done differently. Brian had come out to both his parents less than a week after Gus was conceived. Brian said it was so they could both suffer with the information longer but Justin knew how hard it had been to see his own dad again every day and figured Brian being Brian wanted it over and done with. Brian had already started cancer screening and was keeping it up every six months.

It was a quarter after six when they stumbled into the diner hanging all over each other. Debbie looked nonplus and before they even took a booth Brian said, “Justin, this is Debbie, if you want to eat around here you have to be nice to her.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Novotney,” Justin said with a grin and slid in to the booth facing the door, and then Brian sat down next to him and handed him a menu.

“Isn’t he a little young?” Deb said.

Justin looked up and said, “I’m legal. Can I get a milkshake and the egg, bacon and cheese sandwich?”

Brian started to order but Deb knew what he always got and recited it over him. So Brian casually added when she was done, “His name’s Gus, and his birthday is yesterday, six pounds, seven ounces.” So suddenly she was kissing Brian’s head and hugging him. However moments later she looked unhappy again about Justin being with Brian, but left them both with full cups of coffee.

Brian tilted into Justin and whispered into his ear, “If she had asked how you knew her last name, what were you planning to say?”

“That you talk about her all the time and says such nice things,” Justin singsonged.

“You’re such a brat,” Brian grinned.

Justin kissed him and said, “Wasn’t I always?”

“Well, well, well, don’t you two look cozy,” Emmett said sliding in the bench seat across from them. Michael had stopped to greet his mom and by the way they had their heads together they were gossiping about Brian.

“Justin Taylor, Emmett Honeycutt,” Brian said.

“Well hello, jailbait,” Emmett said.

Justin grinned; he’d missed Emmett, “I’m legal.”

“Emmett works at Torso, he’s on a mission to rid the world of flannel,” Brian said.

Justin couldn’t stop smiling and said, “Really? I have a flannel allergy; it’s good to know someone’s taking action.”

Brian snorted into his coffee as Michael joined them, and said, “Justin Taylor, Michael Novotney.”

“Nice to meet you Mr. Novotney,” Justin said, playing up the wide eyed kid routine and causing Brian to snort again.

“What is he doing here?” Michael asked.

Justin answered, “Having breakfast,” and took the shake Deb was handing to him before she set down his and Brian’s plates and took Em and Michael’s orders.

“And why didn’t your call me last night,” Michael asked.

Brian cut into his egg white omelet and said, “I did, it went to voice mail. I figured you hooked up.”

“A boy, six pounds seven ounces, his name is Gus and he has Brian’s eyes,” Justin told Emmett who ate up the details.

“You took him? To the hospital?” Michael said.

Brian motioned for a refill on his coffee and said, “What was I supposed to do leave him tied to the bed?”

“Could I have some more too, please, Mrs. Novotney?” Justin asked causing Michael to look stunned.

Deb said, “Just call me Debbie, honey, and if this one doesn’t take you home to you parents I’m going to have his balls.”

“I don’t live with my parents; they have issues with my sexuality. And I’m a little possessive of Brian’s balls so you’ll have to fight me for them,” Justin said and softened it with a smile, as if he could help it. He didn’t think he could not have stopped smiling if someone put a gun to his head. It was so good to see her, to see everyone. He'd come home.

Justin finished his breakfast sandwich and his shake and was later craning his neck as he asked Brian “Is there any pie over there?”

“You’re a fucking bottomless pit, get it to go, we need to get you to school,” Brian said.

“School!” Michael said. “College or high school?”

Justin just grinned at him and got two pieces of apple pie to go.

Once they were in the jeep and on their way, Justin went through Brian’s glove compartment and found a pen and note pad. He wrote down his address and his phone number while asking, “Didn’t you have to ride Michael to work last time.”

“I don’t ride him in everyday – before I owed him for being a designated driver,” Brian said.

Justin looked over and said, “You owed him for trashing your car?”

Brian parked two blocks from the school and Justin asked, “What my hot hookup’s ashamed to drive up and threaten to kick the narrow virgin asses of the school bullies.”

“I didn’t want to make it harder for you, with Hobbes.” Brian said.

Justin said, “Fuck Hobbes, that homophobic closet case should fear me. Remember me? I’m Justin fucking Taylor.”

Brian laughed and said, “Justin I have missed you so much; balls of solid titanium.”

“Never again, Brian, I am invading your life, just resign yourself,” Justin said and kissed him. Breathless he added, “Now tear up the street and drop me up front and make me the envy of every human with a sex drive that goes to this goddamned school.”

This time when he dropped him off, there were no slurs yelled, but a lot of people looked stunned. Brian kissed him and slapped his ass and sent him on his way with a see you tonight and when Justin loped up the stairs to get his backpack and uniform from Daphne he was ready for her question.

“What was that?” she asked.

Justin grinned and shouldered his back pack and said, “I have seen the face of God and his name is Brian Kinney.”

“That guy? The face of God? I don’t see it,” She said.

Justin put his arm around her as they headed inside and said, “You will when you see the nude portraits I make of him.”

“That’s not his face,” she giggled.

Justin whispered, “He’s hung like a stallion and the things he can do with his tongue would make angels weep.”

“Lovely, you’re forming a new religion to worship this Brian guy’s cock,” Daphne said as they headed toward the bathrooms so Justin could change.

Justin said, “You have the best ideas, I could go door to door asking if people have accepted the cock of Brian Kinney into their hearts or you know – I’m pretty sure that about sixty percent of gay Pittsburgh or maybe even the tristate area has - at least the hot ones have.”

“So he’s a slut?” Daphne asked.

Justin handed her his backpack to hold and before he ducked into the men’s room to change said, “No he’s just a generous and giving man who believes when god endows you with such divine purpose you should share the love, or at least the lust.”

“You’re insane,” she called in the arch way to the men’s room, as she leaned against the wall and watched the clock while he changed.

Justin went into a stall and quickly changed clothes, came out and tied his tie in front of the mirror and ran a wet hand through his shaggy locks. Maybe he should get a trim he was starting to sport what he remembered as his unkempt Hollywood look and it wasn’t one of his best memories.

As he was leaving, Hobbes entered and said, “Faggot.”

“Closet case,” he answered without thinking and passing out the archway to join Daphne.

“What did you call me?” Hobbes roared leaning out into the corridor and everyone up and down the hall turned and stopped talking.

Justin looked back to see Hobbes standing in the entrance to the men’s room and asked, “What did you, call me? And speak up because everyone is listening to both sides of this conversation.” Hobbes paled visibly. “Right, thought so,” and Justin turned back to Daphne and walked away.

As they were walking down the hall Daphne said, “Do you have a death wish?”

“He’s too much of a coward to kill me with witnesses,” Justin said. “He’s a fucking closet case, he hates himself so much he has to pick on every fag he sees for fear someone sees though his wall of denial, he’s going to grow up just like Dixon.”

“Mr. Dixon’s gay?” Daphne gasped.

Justin said, “No. He’s another one who has to hate someone else because he hasn’t got the balls to either hate himself or change.”

Daphne looked around to see if anyone was listening and said, “Tell me about this Brian guy – is he nice.”

“No, he doesn’t do nice. But he’s fucking awesome. You won’t like him at first, but he’ll grow on you,” Justin said.

Daphne looked suspicious and said, “And I’m going to get to meet him, how?”

“You’re my best friend, and he is the man I’ve been waiting for my whole life,” Justin said, “of course you’re going to meet him – eventually I’ll even drag him to Sunday brunch, but I may have to ease him into that, domesticity makes his dick soft.”

“How did you meet him?” She whispered as they took their seats in their homeroom.

Justin leaned across the aisle and murmured, “Well, he saw me on the street corner and prowled over to me, all lean muscles and smoldering eyes and ask what I had planned for the night.”

“Oh my god, really? What did you say,” she squealed and then covered her mouth.

Justin smirked and said, “I said, ‘nothing special’ and he said, ‘well, now you do’ and took me back to his place.”

Mr. Dixon showed up and the class quieted down as he took roll. Justin hated him way more than Chris Hobbes. And since he had him for home room and AP Calc. he saw him twice a day. Hobbes was a kid, scared confused and probably would never have ended up in that parking garage with a baseball bat if it hadn’t been for the institutionalized homophobia propagated by people like Dixon and the principal. People who were being paid to create a learning environment but aided and encouraged kids to be bullied by other students when they weren’t doing it themselves.

At lunch, Daphne was sitting with Tracy and September when Justin came up behind her and leaned over to steal her soda. “Hey, get your own,” she said.

“Don’t you know soda’s bad for you,” he said, pulling a bottle of water out of his backpack and offering it in exchange.

Daphne took the water but said, “While I appreciate your willingness to save me by drinking it, I want it back. Did you bring anything today? The lunch is gross.”

Justin returned her cola after taking a gulp and said, “I brought pie, and I had breakfast with Brian – he’s a gentleman.”

“But is he rich? Stella always said they should be both,” Daphne said.

Justin took out the to-go containers from his backpack and said, “Speaking of good advice, can you stop telling people that Mr. Dixon was caught blowing Hobbes in the locker room, I mean as long as we’re worried about each other’s health, spreading that seems to be a bad idea.”

“What?” All three girls chorused, and Daphne asked, “Where did you hear that?”

“Are you saying it wasn’t you and your posse of gossip queens?” Justin asked.

“No, where did you hear that,” Daphne asked.

Justin raised both hands in surrender, “I didn’t. I don’t know what you’re taking about, no jury in the world, this conversation never happened.”

Daphne gave him a wary look but September and Tracy had their heads together whispering loudly. Daphne shook her head and hissed softly, “You, fire, playing.”


	13. In another dimension

The rest of the day dragged and Justin though he heard snatches of multiple versions of the rumor at various times, because by the end of the day it had morphed to several different scenarios. As he and Daphne were walking down the stairs in front of the school; Brian squealed to a stop in his jeep. He called, “Hey pretty boy, want a ride?”

“See ya, Daph,” Justin said.

Brian called, “need a ride, Daphne?”

She blushed and shook her head and hissed, “Call me later.”

As they drove off Brian asked, “Why do you have an address in Squirrel Hill?”

“It started as my studio space, a friend lent it to me,” Justin said. “But if you think Craig couldn’t live with a gay seventeen year old son, try a thirty something gay man in a seventeen year old body. So given that I couldn’t say, just wait, I can move in with Brian, you know, I just have to meet him first, and since I’m going to CMU next fall my grandmother and a friend arranged for me to live there.”

“What about art school?” Brian said.

Justin said, “CMU has one of the top five art programs in the country and out of those schools it is one of two that have a broad curriculum that extends to more than just art.”

“You got it all figured out,” Brian said.

“Yeah, I do. There is no way in hell I am letting you out of my life. Even if you get a restraining order,” Justin said.

Brian smirked and pushed his cheek out with his tongue, “If you remember, I grew up too. Show me this studio of yours and then pack up, your moving back in.”

“Everybody is going to have a stroke, you know that don’t you?” Justin said.

Brian smiled, “Fuck ‘em.”

They fucked on the Murphy bed and in the shower. In between Justin pulled up the digital photos of the History Center show on his lap top to show Brian and packed up the bulk of his clothes. Brian confessed to having gone to the Center to see it when it was there, he’d heard Justin’s name mentioned by Lindsey. He’d wondered if the same thing that that had happened to him had happened to Justin; because he’d watched Justin’s technique and style evolve over the years but couldn’t think of a way to check without risking never meeting him; or meeting him in a way would end in them not being lovers if he was wrong.

Justin figured he would still need to keep some changes of clothing at the studio for when he was working. He told Brian about how his grandmother hadn’t died in a car crash the way she had in the past and about Stella and the crowd at Redstone Highlands and that he was taking him to meet them, but not that night.

By the time that they were back at the loft, which had surprising space in the closet and a few empty drawers, Justin was overwhelmed at the signs that Brian had been waiting for last night as eagerly as he had. They ordered Thai and started to put Justin’s things away. Brian confessed he was trying to quit smoking, due to the upcoming cancer and when Justin told him he’d died of a heart attack he’d sighed and said, “I suppose you want me to stop drinking and taking poppers?”

“Just cut back for now,” Justin said.

Brian rolled his eyes and said, “I’m too fucking responsible, other than pot and a little E, I’m drug free. I’m working on the drinking – kind of, I don’t want to be my old man. And I want to be there, for Gus.”

“You’re nothing like your father,” Justin said.

Brian had changed out of his suit when they got to the loft and was wearing a long sleeve tee and jeans while they’d been filling drawers. As Brian finished hanging the last of Justin’s things and closed the closet door, Justin came up behind him and lifted his shirt up and leaned over to lick the curve of his back just as it dipped down to his ass and then Justin asked, “Can you be naked now?”

“Stop toying with me, I know you’ll get distracted as soon as the food is here,” Brian said, but did a shimmy and lifted his shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it aside before turning and pushing Justin back onto the bed.

Justin looked up, in open mouthed wonder, he just could not keep from smiling and said, “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been, not drawing you, not painting you. Not putting you in everything I do, every line, every moment. The look of wonder when you held Gus for the first time, the way you prowl the dance floor, or the back room, a smoldering icon to hedonism, your fierce and strong and vulnerable and so painfully human, so real, so alive and when you weren’t, the world shattered into razor dust, gritty and bleak and so incredibly empty. All I could think was if I did draw you and you saw them you’d have me committed.”

Justin could feel tears in the corners of his eyes and Brian kissed them and kissed him and said, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t believe in sorry,” Justin said.

“I never believed in love either, I rely on you to tell me when I’m being an idiot,” Brian said.

Justin laughed and held him tight and said, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

“I know. You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met, I love you too.” Brian said, he undid Justin tie and peeled off his shirt, both were thrown off in the same direction he’d tossed his own. He unbuttoned his pants and slid them down. Justin was only wearing one of Brian’s designer jock straps and Brian said, “Awh, they grow up so fast.”

Justin rolled until he was on top and started to remove Brian’s jeans, once he had him naked he swallowed his cock down to the root and Brian yelped, “Christ, Justin. I forgot breathing was optional with you.”

Justin slowly pulled his lips from base to tip, releasing it with a pop and said, “I learned from the master.”

Brian rolled them over and removed Justin’s jock strap, tossing it with the rest of their clothes and said, “By the time the food arrives you’re going to have to eat standing up.”

The sound of the loft door rolling open had them both groaning and Brian lowered his forehead to Justin’s and they said softly together, “Michael.”

“Brian?” Michael called. “I’ve been calling you – what are you still doing here?”

“It’s called sex. It’s very popular, you should try it,” Justin deadpanned.

Brian buried a laugh in Justin’s neck and said, “I think I need a new phone, it’s not holding a charge well. What do you need Mikey?” He kept Justin covered with his body and said, “Can you give us a minute to pull something on?”

After Brian stood up and started to put his jeans back on Justin lay there watching him. They were both already hard and watching Brian try and confine his cock back in those jeans brought a big grin to his face. Brian smirked and said, “Shut up.”

The phone rang and Justin rolled to get it while Brian went out of the bedroom to talk to Michael. Pulling the dreaded grey yoga pants out of one of his drawers Justin put on his jock and the pants while he talked, “Hello? Oh hi, Lindsey. No it’s Justin. Yeah he’s here, but Michael just showed up. I don’t know what the crisis du jour is but Brian is riding to the rescue.” He paused and listened, “Really. I’m surprised your home so soon. Wow. I can’t imagine anyone just handing me a human and saying you’re on your own. You think they’d make you take a class or get some sort of certification. No wonder everyone’s so fucked up, huh?” He listened and said, “We were just going to stay in tonight so it shouldn’t be a problem unless Michael monopolizes him. Let me check and if for some reason he can’t come we’ll call you.”

Michael was stressing out to Brian about something with work. Given that he worked retail Justin wasn’t sure what he had to stress about, it wasn’t like he was a heart surgeon or disarmed bombs. The buzzer rang and Justin went to the security panel to let them in. He crossed to the cabinet in the kitchen where Brian kept his take out cash and counted out enough for the order and a good tip.

“What are you doing?” Michael called, it seemed to be a growing theme and although over the years they’d become friends Justin had forgotten how threatened Michael had been by him in the beginning. He’d thought it was because he moved into his family home and his room but so far all Justin was taking was Brian.

“Paying for dinner; are you staying, there’s plenty?” Justin said and went to open the door and get the food.

“Brian?” Justin said as he returned with a shopping bag full of Thai. “Lindz called and wants to see you tonight if you can stop by – I can’t believe she’s home already. If a whole person had just fought their way out of an orifice of my body I would want to lay there on the good drugs for at least a week.”

“Who is he?” Michael said.

“He’s Justin,” Brian said at the same time that Justin said, “I’m Justin.”

“You never fuck tricks a second time,” Michael said.

Justin grinned and said, “Well that means I’m not a trick.”

“Brian doesn’t do relationships,” Michael said.

“I thought he was your best friend. Has been your best friend since you were fourteen; in my book fifteen years is one long term relationship,” Justin said.

Michael looked frustrated and Justin pulled out three bowls and dished up some food into one from two different cartons and then pulled sets of ceramic chop sticks from Brian’s cutlery drawer. Finally as Brian started to serve himself Michael said, “That’s different.

“I’m different,” Justin said. “I told Lindsey I’d call her if you couldn’t make it. Are you going out?”

“Michael needs a ride; he’s pretending to be straight,” Brian said.

Justin swallowed the shrimp in his mouth and muttered, “That won’t end well.”

Michael grabbed a bowl and dished in some noodles before putting some spicy fish on top. “You have no idea how hard it is. I don’t want to hide this, but my career-”

“It’s the big Q. If they were to fire you, you could get a better job within a week,” Brian said.

Michael whined, “I’m not smart like you, I don’t have a degree.”

This was one point Justin had never got. Michael bitched about this with David and with Ben but he never did anything. He could take classes he could go back to school there was no reason for him to just drift if he wasn’t happy with himself. Brian looked equally frustrated. This was Brian in his mid-forties; he may be back in his twenty nine year old body, which was just as mesmerizing as Justin remembered, but just like Justin all the pain and sorrow of fifteen years as well as the joy had tempered him like a fine sword.

“Give him your jeep.” Justin said to Brian. “Michael, after dinner; tell this girl you need to talk to her, take her somewhere private, quiet. Confess everything. Not just that you’re gay, but everything you just said about how trapped the company makes people. How they don’t promote on merit but on image,” Justin said. “You get her on your side and she’ll help you.” Justin said. “If you’re really in a hostile atmosphere, like for instance *high school*, you need an ally, you had Brian; I have Daphne. If nothing else an ally will call the police when they’re kicking your to death on the floor.”

Brian shot him a look and said, “You said the kids weren’t that bad.”

“Fuck the kids, the faculty hates out and proud. Gay students are supposed to hunch their shoulders and scurry to their lockers,” Justin said. “I strut down the halls and call a closet case a closet case.”

“Who are you,” Michael said.

Brian grinned and said, “He’s Justin fucking Taylor.” And then he added, “Bring the jeep back here when you’re done, I don’t want it getting trashed in your crappy neighborhood.”

+

After Michael left and they finished eating, Brian called Lindsey and got tied up on the phone for too damn long. Justin had his sketch book out and was absorbed in drawing something, while he ended up telling Lindsey all about Michael’s long pathetic story of trying to pass for straight for his cutthroat career at the Big Q. While Lindsey gave him blow by blow details of Gus’s first day.

Personally Brian always thought working retail should count as time served in hell. Justin was on his second sheet by the time the call finally wrapped up. Lindsey hadn’t been this chatty after Gus was born before. But Brian figured she was trying to butter him up regarding the insurance policy, which she still hadn’t mentioned. He intended to be a bigger part of Gus’ life from the beginning this time.

Brian ended the call and meandered around to look over Justin’s shoulder and see what he was drawing. It was him of course, but not barefoot and wearing only jeans on the couch while he talked on the phone. This was him last night as he must have appeared as he walked up to Justin. The lines of his body, the tightness of his clothes, Justin’s work always flattered him. He leaned down and sucked the nearest earlobe into his mouth.

“Oh, good, it’s naked time,” Justin said.

Brian chucked and said, “Show me the other one first,” as he nodded to the sketch pad.

Flipping back the page and it was him and Gus. Gus seemed so very tiny as he held him and yeah he had this goofy look on his face that showed him what a complete dork that kid could make of him. “People think your talent is in your hands, but it’s in your eyes,” he whispered, “the things you see. You’re amazing.”

Justin leaned back and kissed him long and deep. Everything slowed down; they took time touching and kissing as they made their way back to the bedroom. Justin finally finished the blow job Michael had interrupted and afterwards was indulging his need to touch every inch of Brian’s body. Brian pulled him up to start kissing again when Justin had started to follow the path his touches had taken with his tongue. Breathless from long slow French kisses, Brian said, “Fuck me.”

And Justin’s smile was just as blinding as it had always been, but this wasn’t a nervous teen and he didn’t dive in like he thought Brian would change his mind or it might be a one-time offer. This was Justin, who over the years had mapped out every kink, every soft spot, knew Brian’s body as well as or better than his own. He started by rimming him for what felt like hours and sucked on him again as he was slowly preparing him with enough lube to open a garage. It was touching and telling that Justin was now treating Brian like he was a virgin. It also was what finally made Brian growl, “Would you shake a leg, we’re not fucking dykes.”

Justin was chuckling when he lifted Brian’s legs onto his shoulders, “Let me indulge my inner-lesbian, will you?”

And then there was the slow burn of Justin sinking millimeter by millimeter into Brian as his vision nearly whited out. Justin kept the slow pace as he pulled out and pushed in like a metronome.

“Faster,” Brian commanded and if it sounded more like a sob he blamed the Thai.

Instead of complying Justin lifted Brian’s legs higher, pulling his lower back off the bed and bent down extending his tongue to lick the tip of Brian’s cock several times before finally closing his lips over the head and sucking. “Sweet Mary, mother of God,” Brian moaned and then heard the sound of the loft door rolling open.

His eyes snapped wide open and met Justin’s. Justin let Brian’s cock fall from his mouth and leaned further in almost folding Brian in two and hissed, “He can fucking wait.” Brian wasn’t inclined to disagree and threw his head back to enjoy the ride. Justin reared up and started to channel some of his frustration with not being able to finish a fuck without Michael showing up into a steady pile drive.

As Brian’s eyes started to roll back into his head he saw Michael come to the archway into the bedroom stop in shock and slap a hand over his mouth at the position that he caught them in - Justin up on his knees nearly holding Brian vertical while he held his legs up over his shoulders - before he back out.

Moments later Michael called, “I’m leaving the keys on the counter we can catch up over breakfast, I’ll bus home,” before the door rolled shut again. Brian came and Justin kept up the punishing rhythm until Brian started to get hard again. Justin always made him feel like a teenager in the sack. Justin finally came, collapsing only after he gently lowered Brian’s body back to the bed and arranging Brian’s legs carefully out of his way. They were both trembling from exertion when they cleaned up afterward. So they stumbled to the kitchen, naked and split a bottle of water.

They touched and talked while making sure the food was all stored and the loft was relatively tidy and secure. Hard to do and maintain physical contact but worth the effort. Justin shared some of his research into custody and told Brian he would text him Todd’s contact information. Todd was a high paid divorce lawyer but during meals and time spent with their grandparents Justin had managed to find that kids can have more than two parents. The key, Todd said, was to establish legal custody before couples broke up or started fighting. Mel could be given papers that let her go to the doctors and make medical decisions and deal with schools without Brian giving up his rights – of course Brian didn’t plan on issuing them until after he stopped the bris.

Brian shared information on how much money knowledge of the future was worth and how he’d already made a heinous amount in the dotcom biz and had already dumped the assets and banked half the cash in preparation for the crash, the other half he’d moved to take advantage of his foreknowledge of Enrone. Justin said he felt like an idiot because he never thought anything about that, not even betting on the Oscars.

“Yes, you did,” Brian murmured. “The difference between you and me is that I made money and you saved your grandmother.”

“Play the asshole with someone who doesn’t know you,” Justin said, kissing Brian’s throat. “Money gives you the ability to take care of the people you love. You were always more comfortable with actions than words. Your actions always showed how much you loved people.”

“You’re coming with me tomorrow for dinner with Mel and Lindz,” Brian said, to change the subject because Justin always had seen too much, and thought he was better than he was.

Justin smiled and added, “and Gus.

“And Gus,” Brian said, knowing he was sporting a goofy smile.

“And you’re coming to brunch with me on Sunday, to meet Bertie and Elizabeth. And Daphne if she can bring herself to do more than squeak at you by then,” Justin said.

“Will Mother Taylor be there?” Brian said.

Justin scrunched his face in a thoughtful look and said, “Maybe? Probably. Maybe not if I have lunch with her on Saturday, since I haven’t seen her this week or been at the studio much. She tries to eyeball me at least two times a week.”

“They’ll freak,” Brian said.

Justin shrugged, “they will regardless and the sooner they freak the sooner they can get over it. Besides if we wait until they’re all comfortable, Bertie might not still be with us.”

“We may need to strategize,” Brian said.


	14. With voyeuristic intention.

The next morning at the diner, Ted and Michael were facing away from the door and the money and used plate on the other side of the booth indicated that that was where Emmett had just gotten up from.

As Brian slid into the booth, Michael greeted him with, “You let him top?”

Justin who had lagged behind because he held the door for a drag queen and to greet Emmett who was leaving slid into the booth next to Brian and said, “See what pretending to be straight does to you? He’s shocked by anal intercourse.”

Ted spit coffee at that comment and frantically grabbed napkins from the holder on the table.

“Ted, Justin. I would tell you Ted normally has better table manners, but you know brutal honesty is kind of my shtick,” Brian said.

“Nice to meet you, Ted, morning Michael,” Justin said.

Michael gaped at him and said, “You’re still here?”

“I’m still here. Are you still straight? How did your date with the new girl go?” Justin smiled as Debbie filled the remaining cup on the table with coffee before Brian grabbed it.

“Michael’s not straight. What girl, honey?” Deb asked while taking Emmett’s plate and money.

Michael backpedaled, “Nothing ma. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about I just had a work thing last night.”

Deb shot him a suspicious look and said, “I know what you want, how about you Sunshine?” She lifted the tray of cleared dishes.

Justin grinned at the old nickname and said, “Pancakes and sausage, a vanilla shake and can I get a turkey on whole wheat to go?”

“Bottomless pit,” Brian muttered into his coffee, trying not to look fond.

“Is he buying all your meals?” Michael asked.

Justin smiled and said, “Do you think that means I should put out? So, dinner with the girlfriend or your experiment into bisexuality; did you plow her?”

Ted was watching the conversation like it was a tennis match and Brian had a highly entertained look on his face and appeared to be waiting for Michael to answer the question. Finally Michael said, “That’s a really inappropriate question.”

“Oh my god you did. What was it like? Was it messy? Women always seem so…moist. Was this your first time with a woman? Were you able to find everything? How do you tell if they come?” He stopped asking question designed to make Michael’s head explode when Debbie brought a cup and saucer and filled it for Justin.

Once it arrived, Justin dug into his breakfast while Brian took over grilling Michael. Michael occasionally shot Justin a disapproving look but Justin when he wasn’t chewing, just smiled. It turned out that Michael hadn’t sat the girl who he had been fixed up with down and told her that he was gay. When he said this, Brian exchanged a look with Justin and they both shook their heads. Even Ted said, “That’s not going to end well.”

It occurred to Justin that Michael had never really been one to think things though. So many of his problems, from this incident to JR, were the result of him just coasting along with no plans hoping for the best or for someone to fix things for him. Michael’s ambition was never about being strong enough to stand on his own, but to have someone take care of him. Most of his problems with David paying for things were less about the money and more about being teased by other people. Michael, like Craig, seemed to place way too much importance on what other people thought and felt. Which was weird; because the one thing that Michael and Justin did have in common, was an indoctrination into ‘life according to Brian Kinney’. So why did Michael end up looking for someone to take care of him and Justin wind up fighting to be a man who controls his own life?

“Ready to go, Sunshine?” Brian asked, tongue in cheek.

Justin just smile at him and shoved his take out container in his messenger bag. Once they got to the car Justin said, “Don’t cut out on work early on my account, I can head to the studio and you can pick me up there when you get off.”

“It Friday so people may head out early anyway, we’ll see.” Brian said.

Justin yawned and said, “Things like this, with Michael. I worry about changing anything, if it will make it worse. Like with Ted, if we keep him from going home with Blake and he doesn’t go into a coma that night, is he likely to do drugs with someone else the next night? Someone who won’t call an ambulance? And without Ted to help him would Blake have lived, be alive later – language needs a special tense for time travel.”

“I don’t have any answers regarding the morality of actions in relation to knowing or thinking your know the future,” Brian said. “But I plan to do what I always do and give everyone the choice to fuck up on their own. I am going to do what I think is best for me and you will occasionally kick me in the teeth when I try to do what I think is best for you.”

Justin said, “Because it’s my choice and I am responsible for my actions and their consequences. Did I mention I ran into Ben on campus? I had a fucking panic attack. Ended up crying in a study carrel; there are so many things I don’t know – the focal points that started things, hell even if I could prevent him being infected, would it have changed him dying in that stupid accident?”

“I passed on the White Party – was too busy getting my shit together, so Mikey and I won’t be able to share seven degrees of Kevin Bacon with Ben.” Brian said.

“Never say never – he tried to ask me out for coffee,” Justin said, “of course that was when he found me curled up and snotting in the study carrel.

Brian whooped, “No way! Seriously how many students does he bang? And you turned him down?”

“Well I was waiting for you – and I was afraid to change anything in regard to that, keep in mind I didn’t know you were you, I was prepared to fight you every step of the way,” Justin said. “But we have shared hookups before, and image how that will go over when Michael eventually finds out we had a three way with his hot professor.”

“If,” Brian said. “It might not happen the same way. Mickey may go to Portland and stay, or hell as long as we’re exploring the myriad ways; maybe he marries this chick and goes straight.”

They pulled up in front of school and Justin kissed Brian and said, “I texted you both Todd’s info and Chris DeLuca’s, he’s my contract lawyer, if Mel has anything she wants you to sign, she shouldn’t be giving you legal advice on it, it’s a conflict of interest.”

“My little PSA,” Brian said. “Thanks, I have lawyers but most are tax or criminal specialist.”

“Yeah, I could have called that, have a good day at work dear,” Justin said and headed up the stairs.

Daphne was waiting and said, “You didn’t call me.”

“Sorry, I meant to. I got caught up drawing,” he said as he pulled a sketch pad out of his messenger bag and showed her the two sketches of Brian. He took her back pack so she could look at the sketches as they walked.

“He has a baby?” she said, as they walk along. “God! He’s so old.”

“He is not. You could have a baby, that’s why your mom wants me and my sperm far away,” Justin said. “That’s Gus, Brian’s son. He was born the night we met.”

“I thought he took you home and fucked you all night,” Daphne asked.

“After a brief detour to the hospital so we could both meet Gus,” Justin said. “Gus’ mom is Brian’s best friend from college, Lindsey. She’s a dyke and her and her partner Mel wanted a kid and Brian is so fucking hot that they wanted his genes as opposed to everyone else who just want in his jeans.”

“How old is he,” Daphne asked, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding that question.”

“Swear,” Justin said, as he dropped his messenger bag and Daphne’s backpack at her feet as she leaned against the wall by his locker. “Swear to me you’ll tell no one, at least until I get a chance to introduce him to Bertie and Elizabeth.”

“Justin?” Daphne asked, grabbed his arm and looked around to see if anyone could hear them, “okay, you secrets safe, how old.”

“Twenty nine,” Justin said and only his quick reflexes saved his sketch pad because Daphne’s hands flew to cover the squeal coming out of her mouth. “Shhhh, no age jokes, it’s a very tough age for a boy.” He put his sketch pad back into his messenger bag.

“It’s legal, and I’ll be eighteen soon,” Justin said, “Will you let everyone else in my life crab about his age and just be happy for me?”

“I am happy for you. But I can multitask, I worry too,” She said.

“I’m being smart, I’m being safe, and I’m a good judge of people, I picked you for a best friend didn’t I?” He said.

“Twenty nine?” she said.

Justin rolled his eyes and said, “Yes. Twenty nine – and kindly remember that you will eventually want to get laid and let me tell you, guys our age are assholes, they’re more concerned about their reputation as a stud than even getting off and getting off is all they think about.” At the end of the hall two jocks pushed each other back and forth and one called the other a faggot, so Justin nodded in their direction and said, “case in point.”

“So how long do I have to sit on this? When will you bring him to meet Elizabeth and the girls?” she asked.

“Barring unforeseen catastrophe, and given the number of people who rely on him and can call for help in a crisis at any given minute that’s always a possibility, I’d like to bring him by on Sunday,” Justin said. “We’re having dinner tonight with the mothers of his son. Saturday will probably be homework, laundry, shopping and junk – maybe I’ll even meet Mom for lunch and hope it keeps her away from Brunch the next day - and if I can keep his pseudo-family at bay we should make it to Brunch. I really hope Jennifer gives it a pass. She is going to freak and I don’t want Grandmother in the middle.”

“Jennifer? Seriously? What about Craig?” Daphne asked.

Justin growled, “If that fucking lunatic comes anywhere near Brian I’ll sell my ass to pay for enough lawyers to ruin him.”

“Craig will freak,” she said.

“I’ve emancipated, Craig no longer has the right to freak,” Justin said.

September and Tracy showed up so they had to change the subject while they lounged around and waited for first bell.


	15. Well secluded I see all...

Justin was spending more and more time sketching at school. Mostly he was working on the historical project, because naked sketches of Brian would offend everyone’s sensibilities – tasteless bastards. He was spread out on one of the concrete tables in the inner glass-roofed courtyard waiting for Daphne and her posse of gossip girls to join him for lunch. They had parked him there with their back packs before going to hit the salad bar. He was absorbed in recreating the lobby of the old Mellon bank in Homestead, its glossy marble interior with huge pillars, a line of twenty teller windows against one wall each thirty deep with mill workers waiting to cash their checks, long before direct deposits or ATMs.

“You little faggot,” Chris Hobbes was suddenly in his face, and pulled his sketch book out of his hand “you’re behind the rumors.”

“What are you talking about you pathetic closet case,” Justin drawled and eyed the three jocks behind Hobbes. Hobbes was practically vibrating with anger. Justin added, “That’s private property. I won’t tell a teacher, I have a lawyer on speed dial. Given how much I’ve sold works for there is easily enough in there to warrant felony vandalism charges – how will that look on your college applications?”

Hobbes put the sketch book down on the table and took a step forward that Justin might have perceived as menacing if he was really seventeen. Justin stood and stepped into him, chest to chest, and said, “Say your peace little boy and then slink on back to your band of bullies, maybe the lot of you can date rape enough unsuspecting dewy-eyed ingénues over the weekend to convince yourselves your real men.”

“I know you started the rumor that you blew me in the locker room,” Hobbes said.

Justin was so surprised he barked out a laugh and said, “Like hell - not on your best day; not for love or for money. Awh is little Chrissy worried about what his friends think,” Justin crooned, and then raised his voice and declared, “Listen up boys. You want proof it never happened? The fact that his cock is still attached is your proof cause if *any* of you ever tried to get me to blow you. I’d bite it off. Now get the hell out of here.”

“You tell them Justin,” September said.

Tracy said loudly to Daphne, “God Justin’s right, guys our age are assholes.”

The girls swarmed around him pulling him back down to his seat and glared at the boys until they left. Justin put the sketchbook away and pulled out a bottle of water and his to-go container, which held in addition to his sandwich, chips and a lemon square.

“That looks good,” September said. “Where did you get it?”

“At the Liberty Diner,” Justin said. “They’re known for their lemon squares. Want a bite?”

Given all three girls tried it he only got one bite himself but reluctantly he admitted they were his posse too, in flagrant violation of Brian’s one hag per fag rule.

September asked if they could see the drawings of his boyfriend and Justin leveled and unimpressed look at Daphne who shrugged. He pulled out and opened the sketch pad to the second drawing and said, “Don’t get food on it.”

Tracy and September oohed and awed about how cute Brian was, which would have had Brian visibly cringing or gagging, but Daphne maintained he was too skinny.

September flipped back to the first one and said, “Whose baby?”

“Brian’s,” Justin answered.

“How does a gay guy get a baby?” She asked.

Justin smiled and said, “Really? You want me to explain where babies come from? Well see, women have ovaries, men have testicles -“

Daphne said, “Justin, we’re eating.”

“She asked,” Justin said.

“He artificially inseminated a lesbian,” Daphne said.

At the end of the day all four of them were walking out together only to be greeted by Brian, looking like a GQ model in his perfectly fitted suit as he lounged against the front of his jeep.

Tracy gasped and September said, “Oh my god, he is so hot.”

“Yeah, I hit that,” Justin said and then added, “Have a great weekend girls, I know I will.”

Justin walked up and Brian kissed him. And then Brian murmured, “What did I tell you about one hag per fag?”

“They’re my posse,” Justin deadpanned and Brian barked a laugh.

They went back to the loft had sex in the shower and changed in to comfortable clothes.

“You want to go out after dinner, hit Babylon?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “Can I get in? I don’t have fake ID or a pass.”

“If you’re with me, you’ll get in,” Brian said.

“Oooh it’s good to be the king,” Justin teased as he knelt on the floor and dug though his knapsack and pulled out a VHS tape and as small dark green bear.”

“What’s that?” Brian asked.

Justin looked up floor, “Presents for Gus. Its ‘Baby Shakespeare’ and a friend,” he said, tossing the bear to Brian. The bear was hand size, incredibly soft and hypoallergenic.

“I feel,” Brian started, “I feel like you should be getting custody too. Fifteen years you were as much a parent as-“

“Brian, what are you going to tell them – fifteen years ago I was two.” Justin said. “I will always be here for him, you know that. I don’t mind being Uncle Justin again. I’m the one he comes to when his parents don’t understand. I love your boy. A piece of paper means nothing; we never needed one.”

“Maybe we do need one, not for us, but for insurance and if anything happens,” Brian said. “If we register a partnership a real partnership not this domestic crap you can get medical coverage and we can set up your own retirement package.”

“Brian, I’m seventeen we may have to wait until I’m eighteen but promise me we don’t make promises we can’t keep – we don’t try to save each other from the burden of making our own decision,” Justin said. “Do not change your world view for me. I fell in love with *you*, you don’t need to change.”

“Commitment phobia and all,” Brian said.

“Bullshit.” Justin said as the stood. “You’re not commitment phobic – if anything you are the most committed person I’ve ever met. The people you keep; you keep forever. You don’t carelessly bandy words about; you let your actions speak for you. You don’t make promises lightly. Yes, you’re brutally honest but not just with others, you’re hardest on yourself. If the unexamined life is not worth living than no one deserves to live more than you, you unflinchingly look in the mirror at your own actions. Yes, it’s harder not having a scapegoat to blame everything on, but you taught me in the end, the only way to have no regrets is to make your own choices and be the captain of your own destiny.”

“Was that a yes?” Brian said.

Justin threw his arms around Brian’s neck and said, “of course it was a yes, was there ever any doubt?”

Dinner was unusually fussy for people with a newborn in the house. Justin would have just ordered from Olive Garden or Boston Market if he had been in their place but from the state of their kitchen someone had boiled and mashed the potatoes, and hand stuffed the chicken breasts. Brian looked highly amused and Mel was increasingly agitated by his amusement. Justin knew what he was amused by was Lindsey and he trying to out WASP each other, but Mel obviously didn’t.

Justin was winning but only because Lindsey seemed to be sleep deprived, hence him thinking she should have just gone with take out and plated it. “What is he laughing at?” Mel barked finally at Lindsey.

Justin chose to answer since he didn’t think Lindsey knew why Brian was laughing, “He thinks Lindsey and I having a WASP-off is better than pay per view.”

Mel gasped, “What?”

And Lindsey said, “No, we weren’t-”

“Being competitively polite to each other?” Justin cut in, “Please. I grew up in the country club set as well.” He turned to Mel and said, “This is how WASPs tchepen.”

Mel laughed, covering her mouth with her napkin and Justin though she might choke. Lindsey blushed and said, “To be honest we were just expecting Brian.”

Justin look at Brian and couldn’t even be mad due to the mischief dancing in his eyes, but decided to turn the table on him and ask the girls, “So you know that old joke about what lesbians bring on a second date?”

“A moving van?” Mel said and then it registered.

Lindsey said, “You’re living together? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because we’re not dykes,” Brian said, “we don’t have parties and send announcements; we fuck a lot and wait for someone to figures it out.”

After dinner they adjourned to the living room for dessert and coffee. Brian was holding Gus when the brought up the insurance policy, which Justin found more than a bit contrived and manipulative. Curled up on the floor, he concentrated on sketching Brian and Gus, knowing Gus would be too big to curl in one arm before they knew it. Justin knew he was being manipulative too, on the floor and his young age, would keep Mel and Lindsay from seeing him as a threat when he covertly backed Brian’s play. The conversation regarding the insurance policy was give and take and he was pretty into his drawing and not paying full attention to what they were saying until Brian, while examining an invitation asked, “What’s a mohel?”

Since the question was greeted with silence, Justin answered absently while continuing to sketch. “It’s a title for someone who performs religious circumcisions.”

“Oh hell no,” Brian said. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, the kid hasn’t been in the world three full days and we’re telling him he needs corrective surgery; that the way he was born isn’t good enough? What’s next, a Prince Albert?”

“Brian you’re cut,” Justin said, “and you have a beautiful cock. Do you want to see?” he asked Mel; putting down his sketch and making as if to pull out a different sketch book from his messenger bag.”

“No. Thank you, I’m sure it’s lovely,” Mel said.

Brian said over top of her, “Great example, my parents didn’t consult me about that, I suppose I should be grateful Joan didn’t have ‘destined to burn in hell’ tattooed on my ass.”

Lindsey saw the drawing of Brian on their sofa with Gus cradled in his arm and said, “May I?”

Justin handed her the sketchbook and she flipped some of the pages, and said, “You’re really very talented.”

“Thanks, some of them just draw themselves,” Justin said.

Mel and Brian went back and forth finally she agreed to no circumcision and he agreed to the insurance agreement provided a third party reviewed it. Oddly it was Lindsey who bulked at setting up a legal custody agreement. “Brian we would never keep you from seeing Gus,” she said.

“As if he plans to spend time-“ Mel started

Brian cut her off and said, “What makes you think it’s for me?”

Lindsey looked confused and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well, far be it from me to have *any* interest in your sex lives. But let’s say we do this all verbally; great friends with nothing in writing, Lindz you put on a few pounds, let yourself go and Mel here trades you in on a younger model. I know you, suddenly Gus would be *your* son,” He said.

“And you’re concerned about my rights?” Mel said disbelievingly.

“Fuck no, you’re a big girl, I’m concerned about what is best for my kid,” Brian said. “He’s going to get attached to you; he’s going to love you. And if you disappear, because this relationship crashes and burns, he’s the one who is going to wonder what the fuck is wrong with him, why his mother doesn’t love him, why she’s not there. That’s why I don’t want to sign my parental rights away. If I die tomorrow I don’t want the only thing he knows about his father to be is that he gave him away.”

“You’re a fucking lawyer.” He said to Mel, “Having a written legal agreement means if the two of you take him to the emergency room because he falls off his bike or out of a tree, no one is told they can’t stay with him because they’re not a real parent, you can slap a legal document in the homophobes’ faces and tell them to fuck off,” Brian said. “So, I called a lawyer and if heterosexuals can have agreements where new wives and husbands are listed with the same legal rights as the birth parents we can, as long as we all sign off on it.”

Lindsey and Mel exchanged telling looks and went into the other room to talk it over. Justin crawled up onto the couch next to Brian, leaning on his shoulder and watched Gus make drinking moves with his mouth as he slept. Brian murmured, “Sunshine, you are going to make a damn fine Jew.”

Justin said, “They had me right up until circumcision, no way am I getting cut at this point.”

The girls came back and Lindsey said, “We agree, you said you’ve called someone?”

“Wednesday at four in the Clark building,” Brian said, “His name’s Todd Kaufmann, it shouldn’t take long. I’ll pay for it.”


	16. With a bit of a mind flip...

They stopped back at the loft to put on clubbing clothes before heading to Babylon. Justin was wearing the lacey black shirt that had made his Dad so crazy. He almost choked when he saw one of Hobbes’ back up bullies standing in the long line of people waiting to be let into the club. Being with Brian meant strolling past the line and being greeted by the bouncer and let though the gate.

“Did you buy it already?” Justin asked.

Brian smirked and said, “Not yet. But next time public sentiment swings against us I’m snapping it up at a low ball price. I plan to buy alot of the property in the community; to prevent gentrification and to stop them from razing the whole area and putting up a mall and a bunch of chain restaurants.”

The music swelled as they passed through the doors. The lights, the dancing boys, the glitter and confetti falling from the ceiling and the men, everywhere the men; unlike his first time he wasn’t standing in open mouthed awe. Nor was he getting hit on by everyone in the place, since Brian kept him tucked against his side. They were both however getting long lingering looks; that was familiar. As they made their way to the back bar Justin spotted Emmitt and Ted.

“Where’s Michael?” Brian asked, as a greeting.

Emmitt said, “He hurt his back at work, had to see a chiropractor.”

Justin and Brian exchanged a significant look which made Ted look at them funny and Justin covered by asking, “Was he with his girlfriend when he did it?” Tuning to Brian he said, “See, I told you heterosexual intercourse was dangerous. I bet he gets her knocked up too.”

Apparently, Ted hadn’t shared the fun of ridiculing straight-Michael the action figure with all the breeder accessories, so Justin brought Emmett up-to-date. Justin could see that Brian was softer with Ted and Emmett than he’d been fifteen years ago. He was still Brian and would say what he thought and still had that dark Irish-Catholic sense of humor that had all the tenderness of Denis Leary. Both Ted and Em had still been alive when the future had ended for Brian and Justin, Ted had had bypass surgery and fate and time had not been kind to Emmett’s hairline or waistline but both were in good health. Justin wondered that neither had spotted the difference between twenty nine year old Brian and forty five year old Brian in the twenty nine year old body. But like so many other people in regard to Brian, they saw what he wanted them to see.

Brian pulled Justin out onto the dance floor and it had been so long since they had been club dancing. When Justin visited neither one of them were interested in sharing the other and their dancing tended to stay limited to barefoot mornings when Brian would swing him around the loft to oldies like Sinatra’s tunes. Maybe that was what made this feel so different. Usually on the floor of Babylon they were checking the crowd, seeing if there was anyone they wanted to share or watch the other one fuck, but now they danced with arms round each other and it felt like they were alone in the loft, Brian even spun and dipped him before they made their way laughing back to the bar. Emmett looked one step away from throwing them a bridal shower and Ted looked horrified. Brian ignored them and ordered some bottles of water at the bar.

“Anyone catch your eye?” Justin asked Emmett.

Emmett said, “No, but Teddy has a fan,” and nodded toward Blake who was looking down from the railing above.

“He’s cute,” Justin said, and Brian came up behind him, pulling him flush against him, back to front, wrapping an arm across his chest, before handing him the water bottle. Justin leaned back and kissed him and added, “Not as hot as you, of course.”

While they were watching the crowd, Justin saw that kid from school, Darrell? Dale? whatever, skirting the dance floor, he and whoever came with him, who didn’t seem familiar, looked like virgins in a whorehouse all wide eyed and apprehensive. They were so busy watching the gyrating club boys and gawking at the men above along the railing checking out the crowd on the dance floor that they were almost next to Justin without noticing him.

Justin raised his voice, using years of experience in conversing in dance clubs, and said, “The back room is that way boys.”

They whirled to see who spoke and the kid from school looked like he might faint but his friend asked, “Backroom?”

“Yeah, you looked lost so I figured that was what you were looking for – it’s right. though. there. Have fun,” Justin grinned and then looked up at Brian who smirked and nuzzled his hair.

“And play safe,” Brian called after them as they approached the entrance to the back room with some trepidation, before asking, “Friends?”

“Not of mine. The horrified mute is one of our school’s fag busters, dedicated to making the halls of academia safe for heteronormative society,” Justin said, turning in Brian’s arms he put his own arms around Brian’s neck and kissed him deep and long. He thought about suggesting Brian and he head into the back room and show them how it was done, but kind of found the idea of some closeted tourist watching gross, which was weird because he’d always, had an exhibitionist kink. So Justin pulled back and said, “I’m hungry.”

“We just ate,” Brian said.

Justin pouted and said, “That was hours ago.”

“I’m going to need a fucking forklift to spin you on the dance floor at this rate,” Brian said.

Justin said, “You’re such a sweet talker; no wonder men throw themselves at you.”

Brian made the face, the one where he didn’t want to laugh and said, “Food? Anyone?”

They almost made it out of the club before Ted was distracted by Blake. Emmett came with them to the diner where they found Michael chatting with his mom.

As the four of them took a booth Brian asked, “How’s your back?” before Michael could ask why Justin was there.

Once they ordered, although the rest of them just had decaf, Justin had the fish dinner special even though technically Friday had ended. Michael let his look ask why Brian still had Justin with him, before launching into a long complicated story that boiled down to ‘my chiropractor was hot and I sported wood from a medical massage’ only less classy.

As Michael wrapped up his story and Deb came over to refill their coffees, Emmett said, “Wait what about your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” Deb said.

Michael shot Justin a glare and said, “This is your fault.”

“I’m not dating her,” Justin said.

Michael addressed both his mother and the table and said, “She is not my girlfriend.”

“She thinks she is,” Justin said in a voice he usually reserved for someone who was hanging one of his paintings in poor lighting, “she’s telling her parents about this great guy she met. She’s picking out baby names that go with Novotny, she’s out with her friends right now talking about how handsome you are and how you might be ‘the one’. She’s a person, Michael. Yeah, she’s a straight person, but we’re better than them; we don’t go out of our way to hurt them. You’ve said she’s been nothing but nice to you, so why would you do this to her, you’re going to break her heart.”

“You wouldn’t understand, you’re a kid,” Michael said.

“I understand that straight or gay you *never* use a woman. You want a beard; you let her know the score upfront,” He said and then added, “Just because I’m a fag doesn’t mean I’m not a gentleman.”

The last bit got applause from the drag queens in the next booth. Brian threw his arm around Justin’s neck and pulled him closer to kiss his temple before sarcastically drawling, “My little social reformer.”

“I can’t believe you agree with him,” Michael said. Justin was shocked that Deb had kept quiet though all this and not chimed it but she stood there, one hand on her hip, looking back and forth from Michael to Brian, with her other hand holding the coffee carafe.

“Fuck no, you know me. I’m an asshole,” Brian said to Michael. “She’s a big girl; she can make her own mistakes. Sure when she figures out you’ve been manipulating her she’ll be hurt. But she’ll be stronger and wiser and the next man that comes along she’ll be ready so when he says ‘it was just one time’ or ‘I was thinking of you,’ or my favorite ‘I won’t come in your mouth’ she’ll know we’re all liars and act accordingly. I don’t care about anybody, why would I care about her?”

Instead of watching Michael though this Justin was watching Debbie. Debbie was very perceptive, although due to her inability to hide her feelings she was often mistaken for shallow. She lacked the subtlety of his mother and grandmother’s machinations but her sledge hammer approach, like Brian’s brutal honesty, often got the same job done much faster – albeit much messier.

She smacked the back of Michael’s head and said, “My place tomorrow for lunch, I’m working the dinner shift.”

“Ma. No I-” Michael started

And she pointed at Brian and said, “You too.”

“What’d I do?” Brian asked. Deb looked pointedly at Justin and then glared at Brian who folded like a house of card and said, “Okay, Ma.”


	17. You're into a time slip...

Justin wiggled out from under Brian to the sound of his cell ringing on the bedside table. He really needed to nap on nights they planned to go out, regardless of his age. Able to grasp the phone while only partially out from under Brian he said, “Hello.”

“Honey, where are you,” his mother asked.

“The Strip, where are you?” Justin said.

She sighed audibly, “I’m at you’re place. When you weren’t here I was worried. What are you even doing awake its only ten o clock. I wanted to see if you would come shopping and to lunch with Molly and I.”

“I can get up early; you know what this place is like on the weekends. Ah, I can always eat; it’s a skill.” Justin said.

“I can come get you, where do you want to meet?” she asked.

He looked down at Brian’s ass and sighed before saying, “Where are you shopping today? Rather than you fight traffic getting down here to get me I can meet you at Waterworks if you want to get Tai Pei,” he didn’t want to lay it on too thick but it was his mom’s favorite and his dad didn’t like Chinese.”

“That’s a wonderful idea are you sure you don’t want a ride, it’s no trouble,” she said.

“No it’s good, I’ll meet you in front of the cinema in about an hour,” Justin said.

He rolled out of bed and put coffee on to brew before he took a shower, pulled on the clothes he’d worn to the munchers the night before and blew Brian, because that’s the kind of awesome guy he was.

“Why are you dressed?” Brian slurred after he came.

Justin leaned over and kissed him and said, “Lunch with mom. Kind of like someone else I know, or did you forget the command performance at Debbie’s today?”

Brian pouted. Which was adorable and something he only did when he was half awake, before he armored up and got all his masks in place. Justin fetched him a mug of highly sugared coffee and watched as intelligence returned to his eyes. Brian asked, “Think I should tell her you’re living here?”

“Tough call,” Justin said. “I would probably hold off, deflect. Enjoy being the good kid while Michael is in trouble for his brief flirtation with heterosexualism.”

“The munchers know, if she hears it from them there’ll be hell to pay,” Brian said, rolling out of bed and pulling on a pair of jeans and a tank top.

Justin considered his point while watching him dress and said, “That’s why you’re such a good CEO you’re a big picture man; me I’m an artist, I get lost in the details.”

It was only when Brian slipped on an old pair of docksiders and grabbed his jacket and keys that Justin asked, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to drop you at Waterworks, far away from the cinema and then come back here and shower and god forbid, go to Deb’s,” he said.

Justin grinned, “You were awake.”

“I was lying there hoping it was a nightmare, we have got to stop hanging out with *day* people, brunch, lunch, doesn’t anyone respect the time honored 2:00 AM after-bar crowd,” Brian bitched.

Justin grabbed his messenger bag and made sure it had a blank sketch book and one with only buildings in it in case his mom wanted to see what he’d been working on, and then followed Brian down to the jeep. Brian dropped him at the mall, and told him to call when he wanted to be fetched from his studio or earlier if Brian texted he needed to be rescued from Debbie.

Since he was early, he was browsing in Wilson’s Leather on the way to the cinema. As he was contemplating trying on a pair of burgundy pants, he was mobbed by Daphne and the girls. They wanted him to come see the new Ashton Kutcher with them. Other than a superficial resemblance to Brian the actor really didn’t do it for him, but after reminding all three of them not to mention Brian to his mom he walked down to the movies with them since that was where he was to wait for her.

His mom and Molly were waiting on a bench by the walkway that led down to the theater when he arrived with the girls. They all greeted his mom and were, in general, giggling pains in the ass until they finally went to see their movie.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your plans,” his mom said.

Justin smile and waived it away, “I see them every day and Ashton Kutcher may look hot in a photo spread but I don’t want to watch him try to act.”

“You think Ashton Kutcher is hot?” Molly said looking like she discovered a secret.

Justin grinned and teased back, “Eh, he’s a solid nine until he opens his mouth and then he loses points.”

“Justin,” his mother said, “that’s really not appropriate conversation to have with your sister.”

“Who do you think is hot, Moll?” Justin asked.

“Ricky Martin,” she said without missing a beat.

“Oooo, a Latino boy, you’ll have to study your Spanish if that’s your type,” Justin grinned at his mother, her mouth was open as if it never occurred to her that Molly could be crushing on anyone. When his eyes met his mom’s he said, “I knew Mom. Even then I knew – I just knew you wouldn’t like it, and that maybe you wouldn’t like me. The bad news is you won’t get a daughter-in-law out of either of us.”

They got Molly new shoes and he tried to talk his mother into updating her own wardrobe. She kept trying to buy him things and he kept assuring her he didn’t need them. Finally she tossed the manners she normally insisted on out the window and just asked bluntly, “why are you dead set against me buying you any clothes?”

“Because anything I wanted, you wouldn’t consider appropriate,” he said.

She said, “Justin, that’s not true.”

“Really? So if I said I just saw a pair of leather pants in Wilson’s on the way over you’d buy them for me?” He said.

She looked nonplus and he laughed at her and said, “Let’s get lunch, I’m starving here Mom, feed me.”

They had a nice lunch; he made an effort to include Molly in the conversation because she really didn’t have the attention span to do sit down meals with table clothes. Gus had, at her age, but Gus also had been exposed to his moms’ fundraising and volunteer work and Brian’s hosting family dinners at the Carlton once a month after the girls moved back to Pittsburgh. Molly shared that they bought a present for her friend Michelle and that Mom was taking her to a birthday party at the Science Center the next day.

“You’re going to be exhausted. That is not a sit down and listen to a lecture kind of place its run around and do stuff,” He said.

She looked surprised and said, “When were you there?”

“Almost every birthday until puberty with Daphne and her parents it was her favorite I think they stopped letting her pick just to keep from taking us there.” Justin said and then added, “She’s not just my sidekick, Daph’s really smart.”

“Who were those other girls?” she asked.

“September and Tracy? Yeah, they’ve somehow become my entourage – I don’t get it either, I blame Daphne, she probably told them gay friends are fashionable, they pretty much believe anything she tells them.” he said. “We have lunch together, dish dirt, talk about men.”

“You mean boys,” his mother corrected.

Justin said, “No I mean men. We go to school with boys. Why would we want to talk about them?”

Molly seemed to find that amusing even if his mother didn’t.

After lunch Justin’s mother dropped him at his studio and he called Brian who was passed ready to leave the Novotny residence. They grabbed some groceries, picked up Brian’s dry cleaning, stopped at the drugstore for lube, and Justin tossed a couple prepaid cells in their basket.

“Joining the IMF?” Brian asked.

Justin frowned and said, “I want to be prepared if I ever need to anonymously call 911 and report a hit and run.”

“He could be arrested,” Brian said.

Justin said, “His actions, his consequences – maybe he’ll grow the fuck up. Before I was worried they would lose the house with a law suit and then they depleted or he did a large portion of their assets being a dick about the divorce. It might be better in the long run for Mom and Molly if he is charged.”

They were home in time to take a nap after making up for being rousted out of bed that morning. Since they were going to brunch the next day they planned an early night at Woody’s and met Michael and Emmett to play pool. Ted was absent and they exchanged glances but didn’t comment on it.


	18. And nothing can ever be the same.

Brian pulled into the visitor’s lot of the Redstone Highlands in Shadyside at the same time as Daphne. When Justin got out of the jeep he asked, “Where are your backup singers, Miss Ross?”

“Don’t be that way, someone has been monopolizing all your time, and they’re you friends too,” she said and then cut a quick glance at Brian before blushing.

“Daphne, this is Brian. Brian, Daphne’s been my best friend since kindergarten,” he said.

“Hello, Daphne,” Brian said, dialing back his charm, which Justin appreciated because full force it was a bit too much for high school girls.

Justin took hold of Brian’s hand, which caused him to roll his eyes, but he let himself be towed into the communal dining area.

Justin went straight to his grandmother and Bertie and admitted he probably looked like a kitten that had caught its first mouse when he made the introductions, but if Brian was nervous he didn’t show it. They were both perfectly polite but Justin could tell that they were expecting a college student who they could ask about his field of study or plans for the future. They both knew he wasn’t looking for a high school boy, but neither had expected a cool polished business man who even dressed down in jeans and a grey silk sweater looked urbane and worldly. Justin could tell that they both wanted to ask Brian how old he was, but were too polite to blurt it out in the festive atmosphere of Sunday brunch.

Brian was charming and Justin could tell all the other ladies were dying to talk about him, and would as soon as they left. After the crowd move on and it was just the five of them at the table, Brian dropped his polished façade and said, “I’m twenty nine and an excessively lapsed Catholic, who according to my mother is going to burn for all eternity in hell; which if heaven involves one day with her, is the preferable choice. I’ve spent most of my adult life, pretty much redefining promiscuity. My father is an abusive drunk, my mother a frigid bitch and they still have a hateful marriage, which is probably why I’ve been unwilling or unable to form a committed long-term relationship. Your grandson is the strongest man I have ever met, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“You make good money?” Bertie asked. “He’s an artist, very talented but he needs security so he can create without chasing a buck.”

Daphne was riveted and Justin made a note to talk to her before she left because if not, this would be all over the school by first bell tomorrow. Or knowing how joined at the hip she was becoming with Tracy and September, before she finished her car ride home.

Brian grinned and said, “I make great money. And if Craig flakes out I can handle four years at CMU no problem.”

Elizabeth gasped and said, “Now see here that’s not necessary. Justin I don’t want you to feel beholden to this man.”

“It’s not like that,” Justin said. “We’re going to be partners. Brian is going to open his own agency and I’m going to help him. We balance Gram. He’s big picture, I see the details. He’s words and I’m images. We’re amazing. Together there’s nothing we can’t do – you’ll see.”

Daphne left shortly after and Justin despaired of controlling what information she released. After Daphne left, they broke into two groups, Brian remaining at the table with Bertie and the constantly refilled carafe of good strong coffee. Justin and his grandmother moved to nearby seating by the fireplace.

“Justin, don’t you think this is moving too fast,” Elizabeth asked.

Justin didn’t want to lie to her but the truth would get him committed to an asylum so he said, “It seems that way from the outside. But from the inside, it’s like we knew each other in a previous life and have just been waiting to be reunited. He’s a good man, Gram, much better than he thinks he is.” Justin rummaged in his messenger bag and pulled out a binder that he kept completed drawings in. He had the two of Brian holding Gus and a quick study he’d done of Brian in his suit lounging against the Jeep.

“Is this his baby?” She asked.

Justin nodded and said, “His name is Gus. Lindsey, she’s kind of Brian’s Daphne, she and her partner Mel wanted to have a baby, so Brian helped her. Lindsey’s partner is Ida Greene’s granddaughter; they had Brian and me over to dinner.” He knew that his grandmother would assume that Brian and he were fixed up by two overly romantic lesbians who thought they would be a good match. But his manipulative WASPy tendency came from her and his mother, so they were totally her fault. If Elizabeth told his mother what she believed, well Justin wasn’t lying to either of them. “You like him don’t you? I mean if he wasn’t dating me you’d like him; now you just think he’s some old perv trying to take advantage of me.”

“I highly doubt anyone could take advantage of you, Justin. You’re wise beyond your years. But your heart is different than your head.” She said.

Justin loved how she said he was thinking with his heart when she meant that he was thinking with his dick. He said, “If it’s any consolation the age difference was a big hurdle for him, but I told Brian that even if he got a restraining order, he wasn’t getting rid of me. So he bowed to the inevitable.”

“Justin!” she said.”

“You know me.” He said, “Did you really think when I found the man I wanted, I was going to play hard to get? Look at him. You’d hit that.”

One of her hands rose up to cover her blush while the other pushed ineffectually at him and she said, “Stop that.” But he’d made her smile so things were looking up. Sometimes he worried that he was too manipulative. However, his mother was not going to be an easy sell and he would like to avoid a serious brain injury in order to win her over to Brian. Grandmother’s approval would hold a lot of weight with his mother, and his father was a lost cause anyway.

Brian and Bertie spent a good hour in conference and Justin moved past talking up Brian with his grandmother and started to update her on what had happened since he’d last seen her. He told her about Brian’s friend Michael and how they both thought he was playing with fire in his choice regarding letting a girl think he was straight because he was worried he’d lose his job. He told her about Molly’s crush and how surprised Mom had been that Molly had any sort of preference. He told her about meeting Deb, who was more important than meeting Brian’s parents since she was the one who gave him a home when his own was too dangerous and how she still treated him like her own son.

He didn’t share that Deb had given Brian a good talking to in regard to whatever he was up to with ‘the kid’. But he did wonder about what would happen if Deb wasn’t in their corner. He wondered if his mother would ever come around. Deb had been instrumental in swaying her to a supportive roll.

When Bertie and Brian seemed to be wrapping it up and were shaking hands before Brian stood up, his grandmother leaned close and whispered, “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Just please be careful.”

Justin hugged her and said, “I want you to be happy too, please don’t be *too* careful. Having someone awesome in your life, even for a short time is wonderful – Stella taught us that. Don’t play hard to get with Bertie take a page from my book, make him bow to the inevitable.”

“Justin!” She said and gave him another playful push.

After making their goodbyes, while they were heading for the Jeep, Brian said, “Looks like Mikey’s been blowing out my voice mail, I’m thinking we may need to swing by the hospital. I’ll drive you check the messages.”

According to Michael’s messages, Ted was in a coma. It sounded like everything was the same as before but last time Justin hadn’t accompanied Brian to the hospital. As they drove Justin prodded about what Brian thought of Bertie and Elizabeth tried to find out what he and Bertie were talking about for so long.

“Do you have any idea who he is?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “Bertie? He might end up being my new grandfather; that would be cool. It was what Stella wanted, to have Elizabeth and him take care of each other. Stella said ‘rich men who know how to treat a lady were like rent controlled apartments and should be carefully passed on when you had to leave them’.”

“You really miss her,” Brian said.

Justin said, “I can’t believe she was only in my life a couple months, I wish you could have met her. It so weird to think I was in a few miles from her, you know the first time, and never met her, never heard the stories about all her men and what it was like to be the cream of the peelers. God, she really lived life Brian, unflinching, unapologetically – she loved all those swanky charity events she and Bertie went to, back when he could sweep her around the dance floor. She loved that all the straight and narrows who wouldn’t have so much as tipped their hat to her at the automat back in the day were now kissing up for donations.”

Brian laughed and said, “You do realize that when you talk about her you start to sound like some gun moll from back in prohibition.”

“I prefer Rat Pack, to gun moll – not just as a nod to my gender but it was the Fifties not the Twenties,” Justin said. “Should we stop and get something, a plant or flowers?”

“And just when I forget you’re a WASP,” Brian said.

Justin counted himself lucky that it was his inner-WASP and not his inner-lesbian that Brian was blaming, and decided it would be a few days before Ted woke and he could bring him something another time. They parked in the hospital garage because Allegheny General wasn’t in the best neighborhood. It was the kind of place that they swept up bodies of sidewalks some mornings. Justin followed Brian who hadn’t asked at reception where to go and was probably going by memory, the way he had with Lindsey and Gus.

“Where have you been?” Michael had been sitting next to Ted’s mother in the lounge but got up to cross to Brian. Justin was waiting for him to ask ‘what are you doing here’ but it never came. Emmett who had been pacing nearby came over and Justin hugged him, because he looked like he really needed someone to.

As soon as Brian replied, Justin’s suspicions that Brian was deliberately winding Michael up were confirmed. “We were having brunch with Justin’s grandparents.”

Michael’s mouth dropped open like he was just stunned. No sound emerged and Emmitt was looking almost as shocked. Since Justin didn’t want Brian to have all the fun he added, “Well, it’s Sunday.”

“Any change?” Brian asked.

They got updated on the condition and read in on Michael and Emmitt’s mission to go clear Ted’s condo of anything embarrassing before his mother went to get him some personal effects. And then Michael pulled Brian aside to hiss at him, probably about Justin. So Justin took the opportunity to ask, “Ah, Em, maybe this is a dumb question; but since you’re going there anyway wouldn’t it be easier to be upfront with Mrs. Schmidt, and just tell her you’re running over there to get what she wants so that she doesn’t need to be away in case Ted wakes up?”

A lightbulb went off over Emmitt’s head and he went to go confer with Michael about how they might not need to ransack Ted’s condo. Justin went over and introduced himself and asked if there was anything he could get Mrs. Schmidt and then asked when the last time she’d eaten or slept. She was rather insistent that she was fine. Justin could see the other’s coming over to offer to get Ted’s things from home. So before they had an opportunity to side track her, Justin said, “I really think Ted is going to get better, Mrs. Schmidt. But if you’re worried that things may turn for the worst and he won’t be accompanied. We’d be glad to arrange shifts while you get some sleep.”

And so it was decided that Emmitt would go to Ted’s place and Michael would take Mrs. Schmidt to the cafeteria to get something to eat, and then she would get a few hours’ sleep and come back and take the night shift. Brian and Justin would stay there and wouldn’t leave until either Mrs. Schmidt or one of the other came back so that if Ted died, they could stay with his body.

Brian put his feet up on another chair and Justin pulled out a sketch pad and started drawing. About the time he was sure Brian had dozed off he heard him mutter, “This is another Jewish thing isn’t it.”

“Yeah, constant accompaniment from death until internment, which happens – barring the need for autopsy - right away,” Justin said.

Brian sighed, “It used to bother me, before. How much I missed of what was going on in your life. You dive in with such enthusiasm and just embrace stuff. Nine months and I feel I’ve missed so much of what’s important to you, not like when you were in New York when we could phone and skype.”

“Every day of those nine months, the most important thing was you. And whenever something fires my passion, my creativity or generates enthusiasm – my very first thought is ‘I gotta show this to Brian’. I want to know what your think, how you feel and hear you rant and watch you deconstruct and analysis everything, because nothing is a good as it would be if it’s not shared with you.”

Brian opened his eyes and offered one of his rare unguarded smiles. He then closed them and went back to dozing. Justin drew him as he was and then started a second drawing of him as he had been lounging on the couch, barefoot and shirtless while talking to Lindsey on the phone. Thinking of Lindsey and not being sure Michael would have thought to call her, Justin pulled Brian’s phone out of his pocket, since he’d never given it back after reviving he messages and called her.

“Brian?” Lindsey answered the call.

Justin hated when people answered their phones reading their caller id, what was wrong with saying hello? He said, “No Lindsey, its Justin. I wasn’t sure if anyone had told you and Mel but Ted Schmidt is in Allegheny General. He’s currently in a coma but the prognosis is hopeful.”

“Is there anything we can do?” she asks.

Justin smiled because that meaningless concern must be what he sounded like to Brian sometimes, “I think the boys have it covered. But if Ted takes a turn for the worst we may need people to take shifts until the internment.”

“Uhm, okay well, let us know,” Lindsay said.

Justin could tell she had no idea what he meant and said, “We will. Thanks Lindsay. Goodbye.”

She said goodbye and they ended the call. Granted he and Brian had been together, even if their together had been long distance, longer than Lindsey and Mel had been at this point but he really didn’t get not sharing the culture of your birth with someone who was so important to you. The reason Brian and he could poke such fun when Justin was WASPy or when Brian channeled his inner Mick was because they understood where the other was coming from be it a bar or a country club and how what was your standard fare in childhood stayed with you and was a foundation even if you no longer adhered to it.

“Ted’s more Mel’s friend than Lindsay’s at this point. That’ll change but she was probably wondering why you called,” Brian murmured without opening his eyes.

Justin had gone back to his drawing, and was contemplating doing a nude for the next one since he didn’t have to worry about Dixson the dick looking over his shoulder. He said, “You don’t have Mel on you contact list; which you should change since she is one of the mothers of your child.”

“Yes, dear,” Brian said and went back to pretending to sleep.


	19. You're spaced out on sensation.

As Justin yawned his way up the stairs in front of his school he was mobbed by females. He just hoped Brian had already driven away before it happened or he’d get teased, probably publically about his growing mob of hags. Well three wasn’t a mob, but there was an underclassman, er woman, following in their wake like she wanted to be part of the group. Since he no longer needed to do the quick change and it was well before first bell, they had congregated Friday at one of the broad window ledges looking out over the front lawn. The girls must have been waiting there and watching for Brian to drop him off, since another junior was stationed as guard for their back packs and saving the prime lounging space.

“Someone’s tired,” Daphne teased as they walked down the hall toward the window, “Brian keep you up all night?”

“Normally, in more ways than one,” Justin shot back, “but we were at the hospital late. Ted’s in a coma.”

“What happened?” Daphne asked, she’d never met Ted but Justin had mentioned the friends of Brian’s he’d met. Mostly to allay her concerns that Brian was just using him for sex. The idea that he spent time with Brian’s friends made Daphne think of it as a romantic instead of just sexual relationship.

“Seizures, from an overdose,” Justin said as he sat and leaned into the corner of the window, dropping his bag at his feet and looked over his growing gaggle of girls. “Seriously guys, not to go all PSA on you, I know most of us aren’t going to make it through high school let alone collage without trying something. But be aware that club drugs, E, Special K or whatever their calling the crap du jour mixed up in some drop outs bathtub have a whole wealth of risks associated with them above and beyond the ‘drugs are bad’ they’ve been feeding us since kindergarten. Just because a pill is yellow and has a butterfly stamped on it and you took a pill that looked just like it last week and didn’t die, does not mean it’s even close to the same chemical formula the next time. And the hot guy who says ‘look I took it myself its safe,’ one, probably has a much higher tolerance than you because he’s a tweeked out loser and two, if you think ‘I won’t come in your mouth’ is a lie, ‘trust me it’s safe’ is a bigger one.”

One of the juniors made a ‘eww’ noise and the other was wide eyed and had slapped a hand over her mouth probably to stop saying something stupid. And as a guy who once responded to an offer of Special K that he preferred Cheerios, Justin knew stupid. September was nodding and trying to look knowing, but then she always tried to look more experienced than she was. Daphne came over and sat on his knee so she could hug him and asked, “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s in a coma? We’re cautiously optimistic,” Justin sighed. “But we don’t know – he could have died that night the tweeked out twink bolted, but someone called an ambulance instead of just leaving him there, Ted lives alone so it could have been days before someone found him, so maybe the guy had a conscious. “

“My life is so boring compared to yours,” Tracy said, breathlessly.

Justin turned an incredulous look on her and said, “Trac? That’s a good thing.”

+

Justin’s second period was an AP Language Arts class he hadn’t taken it his previous senior year. He’d actually replaced one of his art classes with it, the other art class he’d replaced with a study hall so he could get some of the minutiae out of the way and clear up more of his after school time – to stalk Brian had been the plan. Language Arts was pretty much a solid review for the SAT verbal portion, with a heavy emphasis on vocabulary lists made from test preps. It was the only class other than Calc that he shared with Daphne and the only class he had with September. It was the first time he’d had a class taught by Mrs. Orr. She had the dubious pleasure of being one part of two married couples on staff. She was married to the man who taught Justin’s Civics class his freshman year. And since the first day of class he’d had the feeling he knew her from somewhere. He couldn’t place it though because in his first run at high school didn’t remember having any contact with her.

September, Daphne and he took seats on the far side of the large U-shaped forum made by long narrow wooden tables arranged end to end. There were only twelve students in this class and they sat four to a side around the outer sides. The bell hadn’t rung but they were all in their seats and Mrs. Orr walked in. And Justin remembered where he knew her from and was surprised she’d even sparked recognition at all because she looked so different. Whereas Friday she’d had unflattering drab dark blonde hair, pulled up on her head away from her face and wore too big glasses, now she must be wearing contacts her hair was a very pale ash blonde and cut in a sharply angled chin length bob that made her chin look stronger and her cheek bones seem higher.

“Mr. Taylor?” She said. He’d obviously been gaping at her while she took attendance.

“Oh, I’m here. I really like your hair, it compliments your bone structure,” he said.

She blushed and thanked him and continued with roll but Justin was floored. They had met at the reunion; she had gotten fired for sleeping with a student only to come back married to him all those years later. Here he sat wondering which came first the makeover or the affair.

“You’re so gay,” September whispered.

Justin lifted an eyebrow and asked, “Because straight men never notice if you’ve done anything to your hair?”

“They just say it looks nice or looks good, they couldn’t tell you why or if they could they wouldn’t admit it,” she said.

Sometimes Justin thought he didn’t give September enough credit especially given this was her first time at being seventeen. Even when you were mature, like for instance thirty three, being trapped by other people’s or society’s expectations was trying, particularly so when those expectations weren’t based on merit or previous actions but some arbitrary number that restricted your freedom and let strangers make decisions for you, without proving their competence to do so, to you beforehand was grueling. September did take AP classes but they weren’t close enough the last time for him to know her SAT scores or even remember where or if she went to college. But the way she vacillated between trying for worldly and jaded in social situations and playing dumb in regard to academics worried him. He worried she’d end up like Michael, talking down her own intelligence and waiting for someone to take care of her.

And that was probably the second weirdest thing about re-doing his senior year. It wasn’t just being treated like a kid when he’d been on his own for nearly fifteen years answering only to himself, it was the numbing monotony of the things he had to do just to fit in to the world at large. When the year started he had made a couple pop culture slips in general conversation. For instance, like when Tracy had said something creepy and completely unrelated to the conversation at lunch he’d tossed off ‘Thank you, River Tam’ which since the series wouldn’t be out for a couple of years had gone over the girls heads. So he’d set aside time in his schedule to research which TV shows and movies that had in the future ingrained their own references in language like Shakespeare plays had done, so he would only uses ones that had actually happened for fear it would bite him in the ass a few years down the road.

The most confusing thing about the re-do was that he figured he would just be doing time, especially here at school. Using it as a review for the SATs and hanging with Daph, but he thought he knew where he’d be and what he’d be doing. He hadn’t expected to make new friends and to actually start to care about them. He’d counted himself lucky to have had Daph and always thought of her as his Michael, they’d stayed friends together and had while drunkenly celebrating Daphne’s twenty fifth birthday, made a pack that if she hadn’t found someone by thirty he would father a child with her. He was glad she had found someone though; Gus really was enough for him. But he loved being Marcus’ godfather and hoped that Daphne’s life going forward was at least as happy as it had been before. If he wasn’t careful he was going to start caring about their two junior orbiting satellites as well.

And he worried that with all the new people slotting into his life and even reluctantly into his heart; would he have room to for all of the old? He still hadn’t met Vic yet. There already was a noticeable difference between Debbie from before and Debbie now. She hadn’t met him for the first time at Michael’s side. Brian had been dismissive when he asked about lunch on Saturday and Justin let him change the subject, knowing better than anyone that Brian needed to pick the time and place if he revealed painful truths at least his own painful truths. But he could imagine that it was some vein of ‘get the hell away from that kid’ and ‘what the fuck are you thinking’. And without Debbie, would his mother ever resign herself, she was okay with gay in theory but the physical aspect of her son being a sexual being, well he had a feeling she wouldn’t have handled a straight son who was as sexually active as he had been the first time through.

When the bell range and everyone was packing up and heading for the door, September said, “Wait, Just, don’t you have a study hall sixth period?”

“Yeah, why?” He said stopping and turning back and as a result brought Daphne with him since he’d already draped his arm over her shoulder as the always walked from this class to the next since their next classes were down the same corridor, her General Psych and his Modern Politics.

“Let’s get a pass from Mrs. Orr and meet in the library,” she said.

Justin looked suspicious, “Is this for gossip? I have stuf-“

“We can gossip at lunch I need help with Advanced Trig, please?” She whined out the please. He was so fucking whipped, straight boys weren’t on this short of a leash. Why was he friends with girls again?

Later at lunch Justin had not only five girls clustered around him but the scared kid from Friday night was watching and lurking just outside the archway that led from the inner courtyard to the cafeteria. Once Chris and the other two friends headed outside, probably to smoke, the kid inched forward about as discreetly as a cartoon cat coming up on a mouse.

“Taylor? Can I talk to you?” he said.

Justin sighed and said, “Sure, go ahead.”

His eyes widened comically and he looked at the girls, at Justin and around nervously and said, “Privately.”

“You’re just trying to lure him away so you can beat him up and we won’t let you,” Tracy said, standing up and assuming a Wonder Woman pose.

Justin stood, handed her the last of the cookies he’d got from the vending machine and said, “Stand down Pink Ranger, I’ll be fine.”

Justin walked over to where the guy was cringing near the doorway and said, “What.”

The kid looked around and stepped further back and looked around again and Justin hiss, “Spit it out you twat, the longer it takes the more people will see us talking.”

“About Friday,” he said, and then stopped and looked pained.

Justin rolled his eyes and asked, “Have fun in the backroom?”

“You’ve been there? I mean I know you’ve been in the club but, there-” he swallowed hard and stopped.

Justin sighed and said, “The backroom is for tricks,” at his look of incomprehension Justin added, “People you hook up with just to fuck? I guess if you and your friend don’t have places of your own to have sex its better than a bathroom or ally. Personally I like being able to rollover and go to sleep after I come.”

“Holy shit.” He said.

“Please don’t tell me you called me over here to give you the sex talk, I don’t even know your name,” Justin said.

“It’s Devon. No, I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t tell anyone that I was there,” he said.

Justin sighed “To be honest I’d forgotten all about you Devon. Maybe you should catch up with your little posse and go beat up a fag or two, hey you never know, it might make you straight.” He turned and walked back to the girls.

“What did he want?” Daphne asked.

“Fashion tips,” Justin deadpanned.

Later in the library it turned out September wanted to be tutored in both Trig and blow jobs. He probably gave her more information on both subjects than she expected including the advantage of sticking a finger up a guy’s ass while blowing him and warnings about how often she should have disease panels run once she was sexually active.

“But you can’t get that from oral, not if the guy’s straight,” she said with confidence.

Justin looked at her like he was revising his opinion of her intelligence and said, “Honey, the only thing you can’t get from a blow job is pregnant. And how would you know if the guy you’re with has ever been with another man? The locker room at the gym, the car, the bathroom at a restaurant, hell any men’s room and a man can be getting blown or fucked, it happens everywhere. We’re not all flaming, we don’t all hang out at bars, but statistics show one in ten men are gay and of the other nine at least two have tried it out at one point in their lives – what can I say, teenagers – so never assume the guy you’re with is disease free, even if your married to him. Your job is to protect yourself. If you’re not ready to have regular disease screenings you’re not ready to have sex.”

“I just want…”And she trailed off and sighed.

“You want to get rid of your virginity like last year’s fashions. You want to do it so you can say you did it and act blasé about it when you get to college,” Justin said.

She huffed, “I have so done it; I just figured maybe you knew something I didn’t.”

“I do. I know that you’re better than that girl, Sep; the girl who is so busy being above it all you miss everything. Don’t waste your youth, don’t waste your time on the edge being above it all, don’t be so afraid of how you look to others that you never enjoy life,” Justin said. “Dive in head first and be enthusiastic and have fun. Find someone you kind of like, or that you think is hot. If he’s inexperienced, admit that so are you and ask him to tell you what feels good. He’s not going to consider it a hardship – and it will be something you shared; getting to know your bodies together. If he is experienced, admit you’ve never done it before and tell him to show you what he likes.”

“What if he,” she said, “I don’t want him to think that I’m… ”

“Sep, any man who gets you to have sex with him and then puts you down or makes fun of you or does anything but think he’s won the freaking lottery? You kick him to the curb; call him a loser and then ridicule his dick size, because he’s doing it to hide his own insecurities. That’s the male way of looking like you’ve seen it all, it’s a lie and a waste of time,” Justin said.

“Was it like that your first time with Brian?” she asked.

He remembered his first first time and said, “It was amazing. And honestly there were times I can’t believe he didn’t laugh at me.”

“But you’re so, you know - none of this seems to shake you,” she said.

“Promise you will never tell anyone, especially Daphne she will tease me until we’re both in adult diapers,” Justin said and September literally bounced in her seat as she nodded. Apparently being let in on a secret was almost orgasmic to seventeen year old girls. “The first time I was asked if I liked Special K, I said I preferred Cheerios.”

September barked a laugh and slapped her hand over her mouth as the librarian glared at both of them but when she got it under control she held up a pinky to him. Rolling his eyes he linked his with hers and she said, “I’ll take it to my grave.”

+

Later when he and Brian were in Ted’s room Justin said, “Can we go bowling or to a monster truck rally I need to bleed off some estrogen.”

“Bad day at the office dear? I told you one hag per fag, I don’t make these rules up just for the rhymes they’re all valuable life lessons,” Brian snarked.

Justin pushed his shoulder and sat up on the empty bed on the other side of Ted’s room and growled, “Cut me a break, when’s the last time you had to give the sex talk to a seventeen year old girl.”

“Ah, never; see the advantage of being an asshole,” Brian said, and playfully pushed him to lie back on the bed.

Justin grabbed the waist band of Brian’s slacks and pulled him down and hissed, “They are all so freaking young, and they think they’re immortal and they’re heinously misinformed about everything.” Brian kissed him long and deep. His hand palmed over Justin’s cock through his trousers. “Oh God.” Justin whispered, “Was I like that, how did you not kill me?”

“Well, you do have the sweetest ass I’ve ever been in and a mouth that could bring the dead to life,” Brian said and undid Justin’s trousers.

“Ted is right there,” Justin hissed.

Brian said, “We’re reminding him of the better things in life, so he’ll wake up.”

“You’re such a giver,” Justin snarked but started to unfasten the Brian’s belt.


	20. Like you're under sedation.

Despite the good news of Ted being awake and making it through a whole day without having to give sex advice to any of his friends Justin was cranky when he came home to the empty loft. Brian hadn’t left work early to pick him up but that just meant he had time to stop at his studio to throw out the perishables that had, well perished while he’d been wrapped up with Brian. In his heart of hearts he wanted to grab Brian and head out of the Burgh, anywhere that everyone they knew couldn’t find them. He hadn’t seen Brian in nine month, after he thought he’d lost him forever. Was it too much to just shut the door and tell the world to go fuck itself?

After changing out of his uniform, he took the opportunity of the empty loft to pull out all his sketch pads, there were over twelve of them and he’d better find a way to clearly mark them or he was going to end up taking the wrong one to school. He tuned on the radio and lined up all the completed drawings, making the kind of mess that would give Brian an aneurism. He hadn’t noticed until Brian pointed out the addition of the stacked file cabinets added to the office area against the wall. Combined they were about five feet long, four feet deep and about three feet high and were designed for blueprints so that each of the many shallow drawers would hold hundreds of sketches. Brian had done more planning regarding him moving in than was readily apparent. But then Brian always did more than was readily apparent, that’s why it had taken an artist’s eye for details to see past all his wall and masks. Justin wondered how Brian would have explained this hugely expensive but entirely unused addition to the loft if the Justin that he had hooked up with had been the love struck kid of the past.

He sorted naked-Brian, from Brian with Gus, from Brian without Gus but not naked and then his historical building project which seemed to be stalling, the logo and design ideas for the new Kinnetik and then random stuff that didn’t have enough to be its own collection and still had many drawers left. He sorted the remaining sketch books and he thought he should get colored stickers to keep them straight and then wondered who they would call if he got caught drawing inappropriate things now that he was emancipated.

The door to the loft rolled open and he jumped up like the kid he had been and greeted Brian by throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him.

“How come you’re not naked and holding a martini? You’re never going to make a good Stepford fag if you don’t learn the classics,” Brian said, but he hooked an arm around Justin’s waist did a little dance spin and dipped him like an old Hollywood musical before kissing him soundly again.

“Gin makes you puke,” Justin said once he was back on his feet. “I didn’t cook, do you want to order in or go out?”

“Let’s get out, somewhere casual,” Brian said.

“Valhalla?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “Oh man, that’s right, I haven’t been there-”

“Since they closed?” Justin said.

“Microbrew pub, man it’ll be breeder central, the things I do for you,” he said sporting his trying not to smile face.

“It’s in the Strip, there’ll be fags there – you really need to curb your hetrophobic tendencies,” Justin said.

“Let me just change,” Brian said and headed for the bedroom.

Justin called, “Do you want to walk or ride?”

“You have to ask? It’s cold out,” Brian’s voice was muffled as he pulled on a thin black sweater that hugged his lean muscled frame like a second skin.

“Well I can be designated driver if you want to get one of their sampler sets and try all the current taps,” Justin said.

Brian looked curious and said, “You’re not drinking? Come to think of it I haven’t seen you drink since we,” and he trailed off.

“I am not risking my emancipation. Craig is not getting control of my finances,” Justin said.

Brian asked, “How much are we talking about?”

Justin beamed and said, “40 paintings, 100 lithographs each and they’re averaging $200 apiece.”

“That $800,000,” Brian said.

“I wish. Minus costs, printing, shipping to the tour sites and they might not all sell and then there’s taxes and other expenses associated with having them sold but even with conservative sales estimates it’ll pay my first year at CMU,” Justin said. “If they do well enough to warrant a second run it might just cover all four years.”

Brian pulled him into a hug and said, “I am so proud of you Justin.”

“Well, you know intense sexual frustration has always motivated me to work,” Justin said muffled against Brian’s chest.

Valhalla was located one block down on Smallman Street from the History Center and the huge public parking lot across the street served them both. At this time of the evening it was filling up as people drove back into town to enjoy the club scene. By day the Strip might be filled with specialty shops and street vendors but at night it was bars, restaurants and dance clubs. Justin was greeted by a docent leaving the Center and Brian pulled the name of the bartender at Valhalla from his phenomenal memory while they sat at the bar and waited for a table.

“Do I like elk?” Justin asked as he glanced over the menu that had been on the bar.

Brian snorted and said, “You loved it when you ate it; not so much when you revisited it a couple hours later.”

“Ostrich?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “Pretentious yuppie chicken.”

Justin leaned in and whispered, “Why did this place close, it’s a great location. In the summer the deck has a river view, good parking, what happened?”

Brian put an arm around Justin and shared the menu with him and said, “Look.” He pointed at the menu. “This is all over the place. If they would have stuck with game – which other and the Churchwork’s no one is doing right now, but no they have Italian and American and Seafood – burgers in exotic meats I could see but twelve specialty burgers that are beef that you can get anywhere; and their marketing is for shit.”

The buzzer sounded on their plastic device and they took it back to the hostess station to be seated. Things were going swimmingly; Brian ordered the salmon, and Justin the venison. The waiter brought their salads, Brian a beer and Justin an iced tea. And then, when the waiter stepped away with his platter, there stood Justin’s mother.

“Justin.” She said. She wasn’t looking at him she was looking at Brian. It wasn’t really Brian’s fault that he looked like sex on legs as he sat on the high stools at their table for two. Okay he had probably bought those jeans for the way that they made his legs go on forever and hugged his ass, but he hadn’t been thinking of Justin’s mom when he made that choice.

“Mom, this is Brian; Brian Kinney this is my mother, Jennifer Taylor. Who is not stalking me and just happens to be here?” Justin said, pulling his voice up into a question on the end of his sentence because really what were the odds.

Now she was looking at Justin, her eyes wide and she looked over her shoulder and back around, “I’m here with your father.”

“Oh shit,” Justin said.

Brian asked. “Are either of you in danger?”

“What?” she said.

“You both look scared,” Brian said calmly, “how dangerous is he.”

“Craig would never hurt Justin, he’s his father,” she said.

“Jennifer, my old man used to beat the crap out of me and that was before he knew I was a fag, nobody can hurt a kid like his parents,” Brian said, and then muttered, “Some don’t even have to use their fists.”

“I know you don’t take my advice in handling Dad, but if I were you I would fake being ill and get him out of here so you don’t have to bail him out of jail,” Justin said.

“Justin,” She started and she asked, “you’re not-? How old is this man?”

“I’m twenty nine,” Brian said.

“Jennifer, what’s taking so long,” Craig Taylor came up, not really looking and grabbing her by the upper arm, but he froze when he saw his son. “Justin.”

“Dad,” Justin said, mentally reviewing his clothes since his dad’s odd fashion obsession and thought he looked fairly butch, although they were the same jeans and boots that had sent him into a tizzy before but he had a white cable knit sweater that lots of straight men would wear – if they were into 100% hand bleached Irish wool.

“What are you doing here?” Craig asked, now looking at Brian.

Justin said, “Having dinner. You?”

“They’re on a date, Craig,” Jennifer said, there were tears in her eyes. And she had to use the ‘D’ word. Fifteen years ago, Brian would have been bolting toward the door – or off to get a blow job from the waiter. Fortunately, now he just shot Justin and exasperated look that said ‘see how nicely I’m putting up with being shoehorned into heteronormative culture for you; you so owe me massive sexual favors’.

The silence extended until it was awkward. Justin wasn’t going to help them out if they were just going to stand there and stare. Brian was a master of letting people stew so he wouldn’t break. Justin was betting it would be his father, who although he wasn’t vibrating with rage the way he had been when he first met Brian before, it was only because he looked like he was going to barf.

It was Jennifer who spoke using all her frosty WASP superpowers, “Are you aware that my son is only seventeen.”

“Yes, I am.” Brian smirked and pushed his tongue into his cheek and then his voice changed to the one that had terrified the staff of Kinnetik, “and if I hadn’t been, you chose the way to inform me that would cause the most humiliation and pain to your son. Why Mother Taylor, weren’t you the one who was just telling me that parents don’t hurt their children?”

The waiter chose that moment to come with their dinner but before he could remove the plates from his tray, Brian said, “We’ll take that to go, and the check.” The waiter scurried away.

“Where are you taking it to?” Jennifer asked, as if it just occurred to her that there were worse places her seventeen year old could be than a public restaurant.

Brian looked confused by the question and Justin was exasperated, “Mom we just wanted a casual dinner, we didn’t want to be part of the entertainment for the other patrons. Can we please not do this?”

“Come on, Jennifer.” Craig said. He’d always been so concerned about appearances.

His mother hadn’t looked at Brian this way in years, Justin had forgotten how much she disliked him, how long it had taken her to come around. His memories of who she’d become, with real estate and Tucker colored his expectations. It hurt a lot more then he’d expected to have her looking at Brian the way she was as she said, “But, Craig.”

“Now, Jennifer,” Craig said and towed her out of the restaurant.

The manager stopped by to see if there was a problem. Brian reassured him it was a family issue, handed him his credit card and asked him to settle the bill.

As they were heading out to the jeep, with their food, Brian said, “How likely are we to be followed back to the loft?”

“Jesus, I hadn’t even thought of that,” Justin said, rubbing his temple.

“Hit and run me once, shame on me,” Brian said. “Let’s leave the food in the car, its cold enough and stop by Woody’s for appetizers before we head home, maybe that’ll throw them off our trail.”

“Yeah, but not too late,” Justin said, and then Brian joined in and they said together, “It’s a school night.”

Ted was awake but not there but Michael was there with Emmitt and as they were eating potato skins, chicken wings and fried cheese, Justin leaned over to whisper to Brian, “Daddy Bear at seven o’clock has hardly taken his eye off you since we walked in.”

Brian was a master of subtly casing a room and didn’t even seem to look in that direction before he cursed under his breath and hissed, “Fuck, I always wondered what gave him the idea to add my ass to the price of his contract. Marvin Telson.”

Michael headed home and Brian threw his arm around Justin’s neck and said, “Come on, Sunshine. I want you to kill this guy with kindness. He has a wife and kids in Altoona and is a douche bag, I lost the account last time so I don’t fucking care but I’ll be damned if I slink away; this is my fucking town.”

“Do you want me to really be nice to him or use my WASP superpowers,” Justin asked.

Brian smirked and said, “Do that thing you do where you say nice to meet you and it sounds like eat shit and die.”

Em had gone to get another Cosmo so he was standing close enough that he stayed when he saw Brian and Justin walk over to the corner of the bar where Marvin had been attempting to chat up a much younger African American man. So he, being Emmitt, lingered to see what was going on. “Marv?” Brian said, “Isn’t anyone straight anymore? I’d think being in town you’d want to be taking in the sights at Babylon or maybe the Meat Hook.”

“Brian,” he said, drinking in Brian’s lean form and since Justin was plastered against him with his arm around Brian’s waist he checked Justin out as well. “I wasn’t expecting you here, I’d have taken up your offer to show me around if I knew our tastes were so similar.”

“Brian, where are your manners,” Justin said, and gave Marv a chilly smile.

Brian smirked and dropped the arm from around Justin’s neck until his hand was firmly cupping his ass and said, “Of course, “Justin Taylor of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania; Emmitt Honeycutt of Hazelhurst, Mississippi; this is Marvin Telson of Altoona, Pennsylvania.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Telson,” Justin said, and yeah, ‘eat shit and die’ was in there.

Emmitt seemed all a twitter and they would probably be updating him with some story in the morning. Em said, “Welcome to our dreary little town, I’d be happy to show you Babylon, since we hardly ever see Brian on school nights anymore.”

Justin wondered just what it was with Emmitt and old men. Em was a very attractive man and had the biggest heart that he unfortunately wore on his sleeve. By tomorrow he’d be in love with this guy and then heartbroken that he had a family; or start seeing him and have him come out on TV, with Em and closeted guys you never knew.

Brian and Justin walked over to Babylon so that Marv and Em could get in without waiting in line but when Marv asked if they would join them he said, “Another night, we have dinner waiting in the car, we decided to eat at home when we ran into Mother and Father Taylor at Valhalla.”

“Oh honey,” Em hugged Justin, awkwardly since Brian wasn’t letting go. Justin had been shocked when Brian volunteered information but then he realized Emmitt would most likely be regaling Marv with the stories of their whirlwind romance and have them sounding like star-crossed lovers by the end of the night. Brian had mentioned that he’d been successful at keeping all his previous clients, but like Justin’s class work, getting a second chance to pitch, especially if you remember what didn’t work or what campaign the client went with at your competitors gave him an unfair advantage that he used ruthlessly. Brian’s ruthlessness was a fucking turn on; the Stockwell takedown had Justin wanting to climb him like a tree.

With Brian being responsible for such a large percent of the business he was in a better position in when Ryder decided to sell. They had talked about if he should leave when Vanguard came and open his own agency or, if he should buy Ryder out, since he knew all the partner talk from Ryder would go out the window when Vanguard made his offer. They still had time and figured how things played out may shift since he’d brought in so much more revenue it may move the sale up in time.

The tried to spot a tail on the way back but Justin thought that his parents would have just come into Woody’s if they had followed. Neither of them was very hungry and put the food in the fridge. Turning off the lights, they undressed each other, leaving sweaters and jeans scattered across the living area. Naked they almost danced each other toward the sleeping platform, tugging and pushing and finally all the tension of the day leaving their bodies they relaxed and tried to laugh about the encounter.

With Brian blanketing Justin with his body the world shrank down to only them. The soft warm slide of skin against skin, the caress of Brian’s insanely expensive sheets, and the hushed rhythm of their breath as they panted from the steady grind of cock against cock were all that existed in the world. And maybe Brian was right, maybe they had both died and this was heaven. Because as long as they were together it didn’t matter that it would be all different, that there was no way to predict how the people who had been so important in their lives would act – they hadn’t known that the first time and they’d made it thought. Maybe in this unpredictable future his Mom and Dad would get closer and stay together, united in their disapproval of a sexually active gay son. He couldn’t make her choices for her, especially if he ever wanted her to realize she had to let him make his own.


	21. Well, I was walking down the street

“Since you have that meeting with the girls, I’m going to head to Redstone after school and give Elizabeth the 411 one the ‘rents,” Justin said, as they got into the Jeep to go to the diner.

Brian made a face and then said, “And Marv’s going to be sniffing around – I can’t remember if it was tonight or tomorrow when his daughter was in the accident and I sent him packing.”

“You really don’t like him,” Justin said.

“I thought,” Brian said, “back then, it was that he combine the worst of breeder and queer self-delusions – and that he was a douche. But now I think it’s like Mikey and that girl. He’s out screwing around, but he’s just playing at being queer; and not even a good queer. You think he practices safe sex with the Mrs., or has her get regular screenings. Can you see him saying “Here, chlamydia is the gift that keeps on giving; you might want to go get a shot of penicillin?”

“She’s an adult; he was her choice for whatever reason.” Justin said. “Hell, I hope she’s banging the pool boy and gives Marv syphilis – then he can stress over how to tell her, and still keep her in the dark about all his backroom tricks.”

They were the first to arrive at the diner, found a booth and sat with a view of the door, Brian sliding in first. Sooner or later Justin thought he was going to have to start packing lunches or suffering though the dross at school. For now he just added to-go orders on his breakfast order, adding multiple lemon squares due to his growing entourage. But after the New Year, Brian and he were going to have to stop eating out three meals a day and take some fucking control of their diets back. They had cancer and heart problems to think of and Justin was not losing him again. Contemplating the coming break for the holidays Justin wondered if Brian could get time off. Anywhere but here, he’d even take Cleveland. Somewhere where Michael wasn’t wandering into the loft during sex and his parents did pop up to glare at them during dinner.

Debbie stopped by and filled their cups and look pointedly at Brian as she took their orders. Brian said, “Give it a rest, Deb, we had to deal with Mother and Father Taylor last night, I’ve had my fill of being treated like Satan.”

If Brian intent was to knock the look off Deb’s face he succeeded, but before she could press the matter Emmitt showed up with Ted in tow. He sang out, “Look whose back out and about again.”

“Hi, Ted,” Justin said, “you look much better. It’s good to have you back.” Brian just rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Thanks and a general thanks to whatever mysterious person restocked my refrigeration while I was out. Although I don’t usually have a week’s worth of precooked meals from McGinnis Sisters in there; I appreciate it.” Ted said, while Brian looked even more pointedly like he didn’t know what Ted was talking about, or didn’t care.

Brian spoke up, “So Emmy Lou, you and Marv have fun last night?”

“Oh he’s just the sweetest thing,” Em gushed. “I think he’ll be back for the ‘cock of the walk’ contest tonight.”

“For Christ sake don’t fall in love, he’s married and has kids back in Altoona, the gay train is just for vacations, kind of like scuba diving. He’ll be back with the land dwelling breeders in the sticks in a couple of days,” Brian said.

“Oh, you’re so sweet to worry, it’s like the Grinch when he meets Cindy Lou Who, you do have a heart,” Emmitt said.

While Brian looked offended and growled out, “I do not-”

Justin cut in with, “I better not be Cindy Lou in this drugged up fantasy – what the hell did you take last night?”

Deb brought their orders and brought Em and Ted coffee and took their orders. Ted asked if they would all be at the luncheon at Lindsey and Mel’s. Emmitt was looking forward to it, calling it a ‘sip and see’ and Brian of course would be there but Justin said, “I’ll be late, SATs.”

“You really are in high school,” Ted said.

Justin laughed and asked, “Did you think the uniform was some new kink on Brian’s part?”

“I do love a man in uniform,” Emmitt said.

Michael finally showed and squeezed in next to Ted and said, “Have any of you been on a date?”

“A date like where you get to know the person before you have sex?” Brian asked, “That sounds poorly planned.”

“You have a date?” Emmitt said, clapping his hands.

“Is it with a man?” Justin asked causing them all to look at him so he added, “With him, it’s a valid question.”

Michael said, “You, shut up. David asked me to dinner,” he told the rest of them. And began to fret about what to do and what to wear and how to act; honestly September was more together than him.

Brian slung an arm over Justin’s shoulders and said, “I went on a date once, the waiter blew me in the bathroom.”

“There’s a bathroom right back there, if now’s a good time for you,” Justin said.

“Where are you going?” Ted asked, pointedly ignoring Brian and Justin.

“The La Mont?” Michael said, “Do you know it?”

Ted made impressed noises and Justin said, “Good view, don’t order the fish. You can tell a lot about his pull by how close you’re seated to the windows.”

As they all looked at him Justin said, “What? I’ve lived here my whole life, you want fish, go to the Fish Market at the DoubleTree, you want Italian, Lidia’s in the Strip or Vallozzi’s if you’re willing to drive a while, Mallorca in the South Side for continental and Tai Pei in Fox Chapel for Chinese.”

They all looked at Brian who said, “Don’t look at me; I’ve only been feeding him since he moved in. I told you he’s a fucking bottomless pit; he should be twice his size.”

“You’re living together!” Michael yelped.

Deb arrived with Ted and Em’s orders and said, “You’re living together? We talked about this-“

“Actually you talked; gave your opinion about how toxic I am and how good people should be kept from my vile corrupting presence,” Brian drawled, “I just sat there wondering why you let you only child be exposed to me if you felt that way. Jesus, Deb, you know what a Teflon-coated asshole I am. If Saint Joan’s fire and brimstone can’t sway me to the path of righteousness; you implying I’m a child molester is just a waste of time.”

“Excuse me,” Justin turned an angry glare on Debbie and would have stood up if Brian didn’t have a hold on him. He was at a loss for words, how could she. Yeah, she often said things without thinking but deep down she loved Brian like he was her own son; which made it worse. Brian let so few people in that something like that coming from Debbie of all people had to have felt like a knife to the gut.

“I have a mother; I don’t want another one. So please take your well-meaning but ill-place concern and direct it toward your own son, Mrs. Novotny.” Justin said, frostily, “Yes, my mother thinks I’m a fag and a whore and totally disapproves of me, and she doesn’t like Brian but she would hated anyone I was with because it’s so much easier to hate the man your son’s with than admit you hate your son. To admit that you blame your son and his deviant lifestyle for upsetting your picture perfect Stepford life. But she’s my mother, let her hate Brian and let Brian’s mother hate me and you can wait and hate any men Michael gets involved with.”    

“Brian’s mother doesn’t know he’s gay,” Michael said, perhaps trying to redirect Justin’s anger from his mother.

Justin shot him a look as if so say ‘what does that have to do with anything’ and Brian drawled, “Yeah she does, I told Jack and Saint Joan right after Lindsey conceived. It was time.”

“How did they take it?” Debbie asked sounding concerned. Justin wanted to throw his hands in the air and appeal to the ceiling or God or whoever it was people asked to witness the inconsistencies of humans; because a second ago she was attacking him and now if Justin wasn’t between her and Brian she’d be hugging him.

Brian laughed and said, “Eternal hellfire and damnation, Jesus Deb, you’re Catholic how did you think it would go. Pop wanted to beat me to death for being an awkward fourteen year old, you think my being a fag was going bring back all the heartwarming memories of my childhood. Oh, right, you iced the heartwarming memories or had me soak them out in Epson salt.”

Ted and Emmitt sat frozen in shock. Apparently this was something Brian had never shared with either of them. Justin had forgotten that up until Jack’s funeral only Vic, Debbie and Michael and to some degree Lindsay had any exposure to the Kinney family. This was before his father’s cancer, his mother’s liver failure and his sister’s suicide. Despite Michael’s wistful memories of high school, Ted and Em probably figured Brian had emerged fully grown from the backroom of Babylon like Aphrodite from the foam. And fifteen years ago, the first time, Brian would have committed some form of self-harm to prevent anyone from knowing any of it. Maybe those memories were finally losing their hold on him. Or knowing Brian he had finally figured all the time and effort he’d spent making everyone think he was impervious was just not worth it.

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Deb said, “you deserved better.”

“We all deserve better,” Brian said, giving Justin a rueful look.

“I thought you said your mom was okay with you being gay, Sunshine,” Deb said.

“She is,” Justin said with a shrug, “as long as I don’t actually have sex with anyone. Or talk crushes with my sister or rudely tell a therapist that it’s not a condition to be treated. If I would just stay fourteen and scared to admit it for my whole life she’d be great with it.”

“Come on, Sunshine,” Brian drawled sarcastically, “we’re gonna be late for school,” and tossed down some money on the table.

As they were leaving Justin saw Michael move to the other side of the booth and Deb sit down with them so it looked like they were going to be the subject of discussion.

As Brian dropped Justin off in front of the school he said, “I’ll swing by Redstone after we finish with Todd and pick you up.”

“If you call me I’ll wait outside, if you come in your fan club in the postmenopausal set will mob you as surely as I’m going to get mobbed halfway up that walkway,” Justin said.

Brian smirked, “I had noticed that.”

“And yet you neglected to mock me,” Justin said, feeling Brian forehead to see if he was ill.

Brian swatted his hand away and said, suddenly serious, “I just figure there’s safety in numbers. Watch you back, I hate this place.”

“I’m not a kid, Bri; I just look like one. Ten years in New York City, I know how to be careful and I know how to fight back.” Justin said.

The kiss as they parted was almost solemn but as he walked up the walkway, behind his back Justin could sense the smirk that crossed Brian’s face as girls rushed out to meet him.

Justin started the day by updating the girls on the ongoing drama of the Taylor family. As an adult the idea of sharing the details with a pack of teenaged girls was something he never would have considered. But he wasn’t just doing it to maintain his cover as a teenager himself; he figured maybe some of them needed to learn from the sidelines. Watching the power struggles with his parents might help them choose which battles to pick with their own. And on a manipulative note, it wasn’t just Brian’s thinking he’d be harder to attack in a herd, and the girls were benefiting for some odd reason.

The first time he went through high school he and Daphne had spent their time involved in his personal drama; Tracy and September had lurked just outside the popular kids, whispering and at least September pretended to be above it all if his vague memories were correct; and he had no memories of the two juniors – but as a pack that hung out in ‘their’ spot before first bell and took over a table in the courtyard at lunch and generally met and walked out of school together they had inexplicitly become the cool kids.

They hadn’t really ousted the jocks and their girlfriends, or their slight overlap with student counsel and other activity leaders – they had rather become the ones had lives outside of school. Justin had his art, and apparently a boyfriend and was bound for CMU. Daphne was dithering over which of her early acceptances to choose, Pitt or University of Pennsylvania, both were in the top ten pre-med programs, but she’d have a better chance of getting into Johns Hopkins for med school if she went to Philadelphia for college – she just wasn’t sure she wanted to be so far from her support system, which of course was all of them. Tracy, who still squeaked and blushed when called in class, blossomed on the stage and was going with Justin to CMU to study theater arts. September still didn’t know what she wanted to do or where she wanted to go. Since SATs were the following Saturday, Justin suggested she apply to all the schools they were going to until she figured it out. This gave Daphne hope she wouldn’t have to go to Philly by herself if she chose the best school. Even Monica and Brittney were preparing for PSATs and pumping them for information on which classes to take next year.

Monica, who was taking art classes, hadn’t actually spoken a word directly to Justin. She was the one who frequently slapped her hand over her mouth. Originally Justin thought it was just when he said something particularly shocking. Granted his flippant ‘come in your mouth’ comment might have been a little much for a young girl but she did it all the time, when she was about to laugh or express disbelieve or agree. It gave him a creepy feeling and made him wonder what her home life was like if she’d developed this level of self-censoring. He knew what Brian’s home life had been like but he never censored himself – or at least worked hard to give the impression he didn’t.

Brittney who talked more but communicated less than Monica was a bit of a social climber and Justin was sure if any of the jocks gave her so much as a wink she’d leave their group to hang on the edges of that one. Justin sometimes wanted to sit her down and give her a frank sex talk, but didn’t because, well girl parts, ew. And other times thought he should give a heads up to whichever unsuspecting boy she finally did cut from the herd and started to practice her manipulation techniques on.

At lunch the lemon squares were a hit again and Daphne updated them on the intellectually stimulating conversation with a boy on the swim team, so the girls were going to watch swim practice after school. Justin was thankful for already telling them he had to go see his grandmother because the thought of skinny teens with pasty winter bodies sounded like a fate worse than death.

As he walked up to Redstone from the bus stop he scoped the parking lot for his mom’s car. He wasn’t going to assume she wasn’t there just because he didn’t see it, but he still sighed with relief. He really didn’t want him and his mother to do a performance arts piece for their growing Redstone fan base. If she wasn’t here he was hoping to talk with Bertie and his grandmother. He felt they should know first that while he still wanted to use the Squirrel Hill house as a studio, since he and Brian were together all the time anyway that they may as well live together.

It was Bertie who caught him peeking around the corner to his grandmother’s favorite communal parlor, the one with the big fireplace.

“Who’re you hiding from, boychick,” Bertie said.

Justin bristled before slipping in to sit in the arm chair by Bertie’s wheelchair, “I wouldn’t say hiding per say, just checking out the lay of the land. I prefer to choose my battlefields. Is my mom here?”

“She was earlier. She came by for lunch, there were tears,” Bertie said, “She and your grandmother are both concerned that he’s too old for you.”

Justin sighed and said, “There always seem to be tears anymore. She hates Brian and she barely got a chance to meet him. I thought we handled her and Dad showing up at dinner like that, very well; no shots were fired and Brian didn’t even cuss them out. And he’s getting it from his friends and family as well, that I’m too young - some grasping gold-digger who sees his lavish life style and is taking advantage of him.”

“Lavish life style? He’s a kid himself,” Bertie said.

Justin said, “He’s Brian fucking Kinney. He is the top performer in Ryder Advertising, bringing in over 60% of their account revenue. He’s wisely bought property throughout the Strip and his condo should be in modern design. People respect him and his opinion. He’s at the top of his game and could have any man that caught his eye at any time, so why tie himself to some kid who’s nothing but trouble. People are going to look at our age difference and make assumptions about his character, sure he can convince the world he doesn’t care, he’s good at that - but why should he have to suffer though that for me.”

“Justin, when did you get here?” his grandmother said as she entered the parlor. She was followed by a staff member who pushed a tea cart as she came into join Bertie.

Justin rose, kissed her cheek and gave her his chair, before pulling an ottoman over to sit near them. “I just got here; Bertie said mom came to see you.” Once the tea cart was positioned as an end table between his grandmother and Bertie, the staff member left.

“She loves you very much,” his grandmother said, pouring tea for each of them. There were extra cups on the lower shelf of the tray and she filled one for Justin as well.

“I always feel there should be a ‘but’ at the end of that,” Justin said. “She loves you but she wants you to be – better, more obedient, straight, a virgin.”

“Oh, honey,” she said.

Justin asked, “Do you think it’s just Brian or would it be any man? Would she have instantly disliked anyone I was with?”

“He is older than you and you have your whole life ahead of you,” she said.

Justin said, “How long is a life? A year, a month, I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. I don’t want to waste whatever time I have looking for someone who everyone else thinks is perfect for me. If I die tomorrow, I want Brian in my life today. If I fill today with everything I know I can’t live without, tomorrow will take care of itself, and then if I am alive twenty years from now, I won’t have any regrets. Why do you think I’m sitting here right now? If I die tomorrow, would I rather have spent the afternoon watched skinny pale high school boys swim, or be here with you? No contest.”

“Oh honey,” she said and leaned forward and hugged him. When she leaned back she said, “Give her time, she’s still trying to wrap her mind that you’re not a little boy. To us we were just changing your diapers yesterday.”

And on that disturbing note he changed the topic mentioning Brian and the girls were meeting with Todd to hammer out legal custody for Gus that would hold up in hospitals and schools. It wouldn’t help the gay couples who fostered but if word spread Todd might find more people from the community with their own children seeking out his services, and as Justin told Bertie in the gay community, word spread and he added, “Forget advertising, tell Emmitt.”

“Forget advertising? Bite you tongue,” Brian said as he leaned against the frame of the room’s entrance arch.

“Hello, Brian,” Elizabeth offered a warm smile. Justin rose and dragged Brian over to share the ottoman with him as she poured Brian a cup of tea.

“How did it go with Todd?” Justin asked.

Brian was impressed with Todd; mostly that even Mel couldn’t find anything to complain about in the documents that were drawn up. It had only taken a short time for them to read though their copies as a group, and then sign them, Todd even had them couriered to the court house by the end of business.

Todd was in the doghouse with Bertie at the moment as Todd and the shiksa, er, Lorraine were going away over New Year’s so Todd could not take Bertie to the Cancer Society Gala. There had been a memorial trust established for Stella and Bertie felt this was Todd’s way of taking a dig or another dig at Stella. Brian asked some questions about the gala, where and when and who was organizing it. Even after all their years together, Justin often found it hard to tell when Brian was really gathering information or just schmoozing. Brian was very good at looking like he was paying attention to people, even to the point he retained information, while not at all interested.

Justin asked Bertie if there would be any problem with still using the house as a studio, if he was living with Brian. He very generously insisted he still use it, although Justin felt it was because he thought that they would break up as quickly as they got together – and given that to everyone in this timeline they had been together a week Justin couldn’t even be cranky about their doubts.

Brian excused himself to make a call before five o’clock when most businesses closed and stepped out onto the veranda. Which conveniently gave Bertie and Elizabeth the opportunity to grill Justin about how quickly his and Brian’s relationship was moving forward. After repeatedly reassuring them he was being careful, that he knew what he was doing and that he was confident that he could handle everything living together would entail he asked, “What’s the worst that could happen? That we break up? He’s not going to get me pregnant. I’m safer with him than trolling bars picking up strangers. I love him – why would I not want to take a chance and be happy?”

Before Bertie or Elizabeth could offer an opinion on the matter Brian returned and when he reseated himself on the ottoman said, “Mrs. Corcoran, Mr. Kaufmann, would you do me the honor of being my guests at the Cancer Society Gala on December 29th, Justin and I would like you at our table.”

“We have a table?” Justin asked, and at Brian’s nod said, “Gram, we can double date!”

Elizabeth somehow managed to blush, look horrified that she was being fixed up with Bertie and maintain her composure. Justin figured he should be taking notes, like it was an advanced course in WASP-fu. Brian added, “I can have a wheelchair compliant limo here at eight and we’ll all be at the Weston Penn in time for cocktails before the performance.”

“Who’s performing?” Justin asked.

Brian stuck his tongue in his cheek and smirked, “You will love this; it’s a tribute, four guys who recreate the Rat Pack.”

“I don’t have anything to wear,” Justin mused.

“And there were people who didn’t know you were gay?” Brian asked, and then held up both hands in surrender when Justin shot him a look.

It took a bit of cajoling but it was finally agreed that they would go together. And later on the way home Brian told him that the table was for ten and that he thought that they should invite Jennifer and Craig. After the argument that started over that stalled, Justin asked who would the other four seats go to and Brian smirked and said, the Munchers and Michael and David. Since Michael and David hadn’t had their first date yet and he couldn’t fathom Lindsey being ready to leave Gus with a sitter, Justin scoffed and reminded Brian it was black tie, women would need gowns and men tuxes, so it wasn’t something you could spring on someone the day before.

They made and brief appearance at Woody’s with the hope that anyone who might need to interrupt sex would get it off their chest and the rest of the evening could be spent alone. Debbie was there with Vic and Justin was introduced to him again for the first time. He was getting better at suppressing the desire to hug people he hadn’t seen since they died. He was deeply glad he wasn’t prone to tears of joy, although he knew he was grinning like a mad man.

Back at the loft they had a rough animalist fuck on the couch and then cleaned up and lay in bed talking over the day. Brian was leery about Ryder offering him a partnership based upon performance. He was, now that Ted was out of his coma, having him review some of his finances to see if he could offer to buy him out. If he did Kinnetik wouldn’t have the same boutique feel to start off and if he didn’t cull the staff severely the way Gardner Vance had he’d just be buying all Marty’s dead wood.

Justin said he could crunch numbers if he needed capital, as he wouldn’t need the money for tuition until next year, but Brian pointed out that once they started Kinnetik their time would be severely restricted by the demands of the company. Given how often Brian had been leaving early in the past two weeks that was a consideration.

Brian went over to his desk and brought the itinerary for their trip, unfortunately they were flying out at the ungodly hour of 6 AM on Friday morning; they would, due to the time zones, arrive at about 8 AM. The plan was to do some shopping and get brunch while they waited for check-in time at the hotel, then nap and dress for the opening. Justin teased Brian about being his arm candy and they ended up wrestling on the bed until Brian pinned both of Justin’s arms above his head. Between slow kisses Justin said, “Thank you.”

“For what?” Brian said.

Justin struggled a little wanting to touch Brian but his wrists were held firm, “For the Gala; for making Bertie happy; for coming to my opening; for being here and alive and-”

“Hey,” Brian said, leaned in and kissed the tears before they fell and then Justin’s mouth and said, “what brought this on?”

Justin shook his head, “I get scared. We have so much to lose. I can’t lose you again and it just hits me sometimes,”

“I know,” Brian signed. “We’re both probably suffering from PTSD, given everything. But you hold me together and I’ll hold you together and we’ll steal every day we can.”

“Together,” Justin said.

Brian nodded and said, “Hasn’t that always been how we work best?”


	22. Just having a think

Brian stopped cutting out of work early, so Justin spent the next day after school in the studio. He really didn’t have any end game planned for the historic buildings project and wondered if he would show it at all. It was good exercise: in perspective, in details; in filling in random faces found in some of the old newspapers and photos of the era. But it didn’t have the passion or the drive behind his burlesque tribute and it was frustrating him. He was particularly happy with how one of Forbes Field circa 1960 with the Bill Mazeroski and Roberto Clemente exiting the field together came out; but the rest of them just seemed generic to him; they had no soul.

Frustrated, Justin was back at the main branch of the Carnegie Library. He didn’t need to recheck details in the buildings he’d picked before because he always brought his digital camera and took pictures of the ones he wanted to use, so he bypassed the photo archive. Now he had pulled a pile of books from the history section just flipping through regional information looking to see if anything fired him up.

Brian was working late due to Marv making noises like Ryder was still in the running. They had spoken briefly around 2 PM when Brian said he was taking Marv to the baths. At the time Justin said he’d see him at home, and there was a brief argument where Brian said he’d pick him up at the studio, and Justin had pointed out he was a big boy and didn’t need a bodyguard and things had been left that Brian would meet him at the library at six. It was six thirty now and Justin was seriously considering taking the bus home – or somewhere to eat. He was not the little woman, he was not jealous, he was sure that while Brian might be tricking at the baths – Marv was not on the docket. Really if Brian wouldn’t screw him when he wanted to keep his job he certainly wouldn’t when he was looking to get fired.

Closing the book in front of him Justin flipped open the next one in the stack he’d brought to the large table in the back of the reference section. It was a book on Pittsburgh’s musical history, there was a section on the Crawford Grill one of the nation’s foremost jazz clubs in the ’30. Paging back to the index, it mentioned the Hurricane Club; the Savory Ballroom; The Pythian Temple; The Musician’s Club. He knew these places from Stella’s stories. Ms. Birdy who had owned the Hurricane Club had impressed the young Stella, with her business acumen and her ability to run a tight ship and keep jazz fans of all races amicable in an era of volatility and segregation. This was it. He wasn’t just going to do sellable glamour shots of the buildings still owned and used. They could be commissioned by whatever landlords wanted to promote their own products. He was going to bring back Wylie Avenue; the Hill, in its glory days, before it had been razed for the Civic Arena to be built. The Bambola Club was where the showgirls and peelers would frequent with their Johnnies after the bars were closed and their shows were done for the night it had entertainment from midnight until morning. Stories of getting off without a date and heading to the Musician’s Club open 24/7 to watch some headliner from the white section of the city like the Stanley Theater jam with the locals until the wee hours.

Justin went to the checkout desk with the original book and three more he found on the era and the area. Afterward he paused in the foyer where the notice boards were, checking upcoming events and local flyers. His phone vibrated and he saw it was Brian. He stepped back away into the main ground floor room of the library away from the outer door and the gusts of cold air coming in when people entered or exited to take the call. Brian called to say it should be another half hour before he could dump Marv back at his hotel and wanted to know if Justin wanted to wait for a ride or grab the bus.

Spotting Ben as he was queueing up to the checkout desk Justin said, “I’ll meet you at home. Want me to pick up some take out?”

“I’ve been wining and dining Marv so I’m not eating anymore,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Not that kind of take out, remember that crack I made when you said you missed the White Party?”

“Seriously?” Brian said, sounding aroused.

Justin chuckled, “Well, I haven’t closed the deal yet, but hurry home and find out.”

“Later,” Brian said, and ended the call.

Justin timed his leaving to coincide with Ben’s. Ben held the door and when the first gust of cold hit. Justin said, “Fuck! It’s not the cold, it’s the wind chill my ass - it’s the cold.”

Ben made and agreeing noise and then said, “Hey, it’s you; things going better?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Justin said, checking Ben out in an obvious manner. “Things would be even better if my ride hadn’t bailed on me. Hell of a night to be waiting at the bus stop.” He maintained eye contact and waited to see if Ben would take the bait. After all he’d learned this game from Brian.

Ben said, “I can give you a ride – I mean my car is here, let me drive you home.”

Justin grinned at the slip and said, “If you’re sure it’s no trouble. I’m in the Strip on Fuller at the corner of Tremont.”

They made small talk in the car, not the usual for tricks, but it was Ben so he expected it to go differently. When Ben asked Justin what classes he was taking Justin realized he thought he was an undergrad, he was sure he’d told him his age and wondered if they got them that young. Instead of answering he mention he was an artist and dropped the names of some of the faculty he’d studied under over the summer.

Brian’s jeep was parked in front of the loft so apparently the prospect of this hook up had him dumping Marv and getting home sooner than expected. Justin placed a hand on Ben’s thigh, looked him right in the eyes and said, “Come up for a drink, let me thank you properly.”

“Okay,” Ben said.

And they were across the street and racing up the stairs. When Justin rolled back the door to the loft and entered behind Ben they were both greeted by the sight of Brian, barefoot and shirtless in nothing but worn faded jean, top buttons unsnapped and barely clinging to his hips. He was pouring bourbon into one of three glasses as he lounged on one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

Justin quickly lost his boots, tossed his messenger bag, and coat into the corner. Ben, like any sighted individual was unable to look away from Brian, who stood and preened at the attention. Brian said, “I love it when you bring take-out.”

“Can I take your coat, Professor,” Justin said, as he slowly slipped Ben’s jacket off his shoulders, briefly using it to pin his arms behind him as Brian stepped forward to work on the buttons of his shirt.

“This is awkward,” Ben said. “But, I’m positive.”

“Thank you, for letting us know,” Brian said. “We’ll all be very careful.” Slowly sliding the Ben’s shirt open.

Finally removing Ben’s jacket, Justin draped it over the couch. Justin sent his own blazer, tie and shirt following and dropped his trousers, underwear and skinning off his socks, kicking them in the same general direction. All the while Ben made short work of getting Brian naked. Before, siding back behind Ben and pressing his cock against his ass as he reached around to unbuckle Ben’s belt. Brian left Ben’s shirt unbuttoned started to with unfastening Ben’s trousers.

The three of them adjourned to the bedroom. Now that they were sure of Ben’s HIV status they played it extremely safe. Justin had to admit he’d always wondered what it would be like to get his hands on Ben’s body and was enjoying the experience. While Brian prepared Ben, Justin rolled a condom on Brian and gave him a long slow kiss. As Brian slid into Ben, Justin shuffled around so that he was kneeling in front of Ben. Once Brian was fully in he leaned forward and kissed Justin. Justin broke the kiss to gasp as Ben took Justin’s cock in his mouth. Justin placed one hand on Brian’s shoulder to feel the bunch and flex of his muscles as he stared to pump in and out and the other caressed down Ben’s neck as he sucked and swallowed. As he trailed his fingers down Ben’s neck, across his shoulder to his bicep he enjoyed the contrast between the two men’s bodies. Brian was long and lean like a swimmer while Ben was bulkier and defined.

Best idea ever.

+

Ben hadn’t expected his night to end like this. He actually thought the kid was just flirting to get a ride home in the bitter cold. Even when he’d been invited up for a drink, well he’d been expecting, from the outside of the building, typical student squalor and maybe a blowjob on a futon. He couldn’t remember when he’d been topped so well. When they’d walked into the impressive loft he hadn’t really had a chance to check it out because there was Brian Kinney. You couldn’t really be gay in Pittsburgh and not recognize him. Everybody talked about him. Love him or hate him he was a legend. And now Ben knew first hand why.

The acrid smell of pot filled the air. The sound of the lighter was what had woken Ben from the doze he had slipped into after he came. He’s thought his host had lit a cigarette but it must have been a joint. He wasn’t sure where the kid had gotten to, but he was no longer in the bed.

“Justin, tell me you’re not eating that venison cold,” Kinney said from where he lay next to him.

The kids voice came from out in the loft, “Not all of us were wining and dining a client, Brian.”

“Fucking bottomless pit,” Kinney muttered followed by another deep inhale.

Ben turned to see him; as he lounged with a pillow between the wall and his back Kinney held the joint out to him. Ben took a hit and looked out though the open screens to see the kid leaning naked against the kitchen counter as he shoveled something from a Styrofoam container into his mouth.

“I found a direction for the project. I can’t wait to get started, I might stay at the studio tomorrow I-” the kid was talking with his mouthful but stopped when Kinney cut in.

“No, tomorrow’s Friday, you have SATs Saturday and then,” and Kinney trailed off making a vague hand gesture and added, “Lesbians.”

“Fuck,” Justin said.

Ben asked, “SATs?”

The kid shrugged but Kinney said, “You did realize he’s in high school, right?”

“That might have escaped my notice,” Ben said.

Kinney smirked and said, “Yeah, it’s the ass. Better men then you have gotten side tracked by that. Listen, it’s been fun, but it is a school night.”

“No I get it,” Ben said rolling out of the bed and crossing to the living area where their clothes strewn about and started to dress. The pieces of a school uniform confirmed the kid really was in high school.

As he was opening the door to leave the kid, Justin, according to Kinney, called out, “Hey Ben?” and when Ben turned back he was sporting a big grin, “Thanks for the ride.”

Ben looked over to Kinney who was smirking with a knowing look and said, “I could say the same. Good night boys.”

He had a spring in his step as he took the stairs to the ground level and crossed to his car. It would make a great story to tell at the gym. Most people had a Brian Kinney story, if it wasn’t of fucking in the backroom at Babylon or a bathroom in the surrounding bars; it was of being rejected when trying to hit on him. No one was going to believe this one.

+

Justin grabbed the books from his messenger bag and took them along with a couple bottles of water back to bed. He curled up next to Brian and flipped to one of the sections he’d marked and started to explain his concept for his next series. Brian relit his joint and periodically would gently tilt Justin’s mouth toward his so that he could blow smoke into it.

Brian chimed in periodically, sometimes with a pleased hum other times pointing out how a symbol or concept could be interpreted, or misinterpreted. After Brian finished his joint and they both finished their water, Justin set the books aside and together they stripped and replaced the sheets. In the bathroom as Justin brushed his teeth and Brian relieved himself, Justin asked, “So. Better than the White Party?”

Brian crossed to the sink and washed his hands, reached up and used his thumb to wipe at the corner of Justin’s mouth, probably at toothpaste and said, “Everything’s better with you, don’t you know that.”

Justin slid his arms around Brian’s waist and said, “I know its short notice but can you get anytime off this time of year? I got a call asking me to appear at the exhibits opening in San Francisco – I could probably plead school like I did with Chicago, but legally I’m no longer a minor so I should make an effort to support my own work.”

“When?” Brian asked, caressing Justin’s arms from wrists to shoulders and then running his fingertips down his back, and over the swell of his ass.

Justin sighed and tilted his head back; Brian responded accordingly and lowered his head to kiss along the line of Justin’s neck. Justin realized that there had been a question and blinked before saying, “Next Friday – we could fly out Thursday evening and we’d have Saturday and Sunday in the city, either fly back Sunday night or Monday morning?”

“I’ll see what I can do. When do you have to let them know by?” Brian asked against Justin’s neck, as his hand cupped Justin’s balls while the forearm brushed against his cock.

“I’m the artist, they can know whenever I’m good and ready,” Justin said and then gasped, “Brian.”

“What do you want?” Brian purred. “Tell me what you want?”

“In me, I want you in me,” Justin said.

“The Corbusier, we’re not changing the sheets again tonight,” Brian said and started to back Justin out of the bathroom and to the far end of the loft.


	23. When a snake of a guy

The next day Daphne and he walked into their seventh period Calc class together; Justin had been updating her on his idea about the cabarets and music clubs and getting her input. The scene before them was eerily familiar but oddly different. Niles Anderson was being goaded by Chris Hobbes and company, that the part that was similar. However Niles, who in addition to his genetics making him short, overweight and needing glasses could blame his parent for gifting him with the name Niles without anticipating the that there would be a TV show called ‘Fraiser’ that would guarantee he would be called faggot whether he was one or not, was this time fighting back.

“Back off Hobbes, everyone knows about you,” Niles said.

Hobbes drew back a fist and Niles flinched. Justin stepped forward to stop him and Devon looked like he was going to faint. But it was Tina Myerson two seats behind Niles who stood up and poked Chris in the back with her index finger. She said, “Just because you have a *special arrangement* with Mr. Dixson, doesn’t mean that if you hit Niles, everyone here who you’re not blowing won’t march down en masse to the office and make sure your punished.”

“Take your seats,” Dixson barked having entered during the disturbance and quickly took roll. Given he was white lipped and so angry he looked ready to kill, Hobbes had sense enough not to tempt him by calling out ‘queer’ during roll. Dixon crossed to a cabinet and passed out tests. From Justin’s memory this particular eight paged review for the final hadn’t been handed out until March the last time. Well it was clear that he’d heard Tina’s comment about a ‘special arrangement’.

The rest of the period went quickly and Justin dove into the test. About three fourths of it had been covered so far but for the last problems Justin was working off fifteen year old memories of a life where Calculus was not used. He was pretty sure he got most of the steps but the answers were probably wrong. When the bell rang everyone filed out silently, dropping their tests on the corner of Dixson’s desk.

Out in the hall he said to Daphne, “I’m cutting last period.”

“The day’s almost over,” she said.

And she was right, it wasn’t like last time this was no indignation, he wasn’t full of righteous anger. He was just tired. This time through he was less afraid that anyone would hurt him and more that he’d lose it and go off on someone himself. Justin sighed, “I just tanked my calc grade.”

“We all did,” Daphne said, “We hadn’t even covered some of that.”

“SATs are first thing tomorrow,” Justin said, “I want to stop and get supplies to survive it.”

“Fifty minutes, won’t make any difference, stay and save your rebellious skipping for things like your opening,” she said.

Justin shrugged and reached out the arm which wasn’t across Daphne’s shoulder to tap the fingers of the hand that Tracy had extended in his direction as she passed going the other way down the corridor, bending Paul Miller’s ear about something. “I don’t want to go to the opening without Brian. I don’t want to sleep in some soulless hotel room by myself.”

“And you want a romantic weekend with your man,” Daphne said.

Justin smiled and nodded and left her at her Advanced Biology class. He was almost to his Physics class when Devon motioned him to step in to the bathroom. Justin said, “Oh hell no. Say whatever it is fast; then get away from me – seriously you think inviting me to the bathroom is discreet?”

“I just don’t want people to talk,” Devon said.

Justin hissed, “Then don’t invite men to go to the bathroom with you outside of a gay bar.”

“The rumors about Dixson and Hobbs,” he started and then said nothing.

Justin filled in, “Are as likely to be true as the one about Hobbs and me? Tell Chrissy to put on his big boy pants and suck it up. He spends way too much time worried about what everyone else thinks. That’s what makes him attack anyone he thinks he can get away with – he thinks it will make him look less like a hopeless closet case. One of the people he bullied is striking back – did he really think everyone would just take it? Take that boy out and get him a good coring, find him a daddy down at the Meat Hook, he might enjoy a little discipline. I have to go the bell’s going to ring.”

After school Daphne dropped him at the loft, Brian had texted he had a Mikey crisis so Justin wasn’t too surprised to find the Emmett Honeycutt finishing school being conducted in the dining area. Justin was confused he thought that this had happened before some dinner party not a while after Michael and David had started dating.

“I’ll never get this,” Michael said. Brian looked at the end of his rope and even Em looked a little strained oddly Ted still seemed to be patiently trying to help Michael memorize the needlessly complicated table setting.

Justin straddled Brian where he sprawled on the lounger and though about how they’d used it before going to bed the last night. From the smirk he got Brian was thinking the same thing. Justin kissed him hello and said, “The cutlery goes outer to inner, the accompaniments are alphabetical - for instance; bread plate on left, coffee cup on right, water is to the left and wine on the right; with multiple wine glasses, red is to the left of white. You’re not going to be graded, Michael. The staff would never let you know you used the wrong anything, they’ll just bring you another.”

Once Emmett and Ted left, Brian and he staged an intervention and redressed Michael. Brian hadn’t bought the ridiculously expensive jacket and Justin nixed the all black ensemble in favor of a red V-neck lamb’s wool sweater. And then they sent Michael on his way to his big dinner date. Justin placed an order for sushi and since they didn’t deliver went to pick it up while Brian cleared away the elaborate place setting. There was a drugstore next to the sushi place so Justin dashed into get supplies for the next day. Once back at the loft they ate curled up on the couch while ‘Silverado’ played; compromising Brian’s love of old westerns and Justin’s preference for characters that looked like they’d actually gotten laid for a movie to be believable.

+

They didn’t have time for the diner the next morning due to when the testing would start, but Brian stopped at Sheetz to fill the tank while Justin went inside for some breakfast sandwiches. So armed with a latte for Brian and a caramel expresso for himself and jerky in case he got hungry during the tests, they headed for his school.

When Brian dropped him off he offered to come get him but Justin had already arranged for Daphne to drop him at Mel and Lindsey’s afterward. September ran up to the Jeep and literally dragged Justin from it while singing, “Hi, Brian; bye Brian.” She kept Justin off balance the whole way into the school and pulled him to the cafeteria to wait until the time to go to the assigned testing rooms. They had compared their letters and none of them were in the same room. Only about half the senior class was there, some having taken them earlier in the year, this was Daphne’s second time because she wanted to see if she could get a higher score, Justin had been too busy with the show to take the early testing.

Daphne was looking exhausted and slurping her own expresso. Dropping a packet of gum and bag of supplies on the table, Justin sat next to her and took her hand with the hand he wasn’t holding his sandwich to keep her from biting her nails. He knew she’d be fine once the test started – this was so like her. So he said, “Got you something.”

Daphne said, “What? Gum? I think I’d prefer your expresso.”

“Special gum, Brian’s been using it to quit smoking. When you’re trapped in that room for four hours and are ready to kill someone for a cigarette, you’ll thank me,” he said, releasing her hand so she could try it.

Tracy, who just arrived carrying a big plastic cup, and heard and said, “What did you get me?”

“You,” Justin said as he turned to sit with his back to the table facing her, “I am taking from not giving. Trace, if you drink that thirty two ounce big gulp, you will spend the whole test having to go to the bathroom.”

“I have a really low tolerance for dehydration, Just,” she said, “I don’t want to faint.”

“That cup is three times the size of your bladder,” Justin said. “Here, have gum, this is cinnamint.”

“Me, you forgot me,” September said, sitting on his lap.

“Swedish red fish,” Justin said, handing over the candy and using his now freed hand to hold her waist and keep her from sliding off on to the floor while she ripped open the package.

Tracy’s dad came in carrying the purse with ID that she’d left in his car. She gave him her Big Gulp in exchange for it and said, “You might be right, take it. Justin brought me gum.”

“So you’re Justin, Tracy talks about you,” Tracy’s dad said. As Tracy sat on the side Daphne wasn’t on and September showed no sign of getting off his lap.

Justin shot a look sharply at Tracy and then said to her father, “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Payne.”

“Well good luck kids,” Mr. Payne said and left, looking back once as the all put their heads together.

Justin hissed at Tracy, “What did you tell him?”

“Just, calm down, he likes you,” Tracy said.

That was foreboding so he asked, “Why??”

Tracy didn’t really have an answer for that.

The tests were long but not as grueling as he remembered. Some of it was that the pressure wasn’t what it was the last time. He was sure that the rest was simply having survived them once before he knew it could be done.


	24. Gave me an evil wink.

Daphne dropped him in front of Mel and Lindsay’s place after the test. She, Sep and Tracy were meeting Monica and Brittney to see another movie. Justin was surprise when Dusty answered the door and he went into the house. He would never get used to seeing people who had died, like Vic and Ben, and Dusty. He’d been at parties there the first time and they were nothing like this. He hadn’t expected dancing dykes high on punch spiked with E but this snoozefest was reminiscent of family gatherings at Grandma Taylor’s. This really didn’t feel genuine to the Lindsay and Mel he’d come to know, it felt like something Lindsay would stage to show her parent she was heteronormative enough to be included back in the family.

In addition to Dusty, who had died at the bombing, he recognized a few of the girls from the hospital when Gus was born. Even Mel’s cousin, despite the bris being canceled. He was trying to be alert and only show recognition to people he had met all over again. Emmett had referred to it as a ‘sip and see’ and said it was common in his neck of the woods for new parents to have an open house for family and friends to come see the new baby. Justin hoped whatever it was it didn’t involve the kind of party games that baby showers did.

Classical music played softy in the background and the dining room table was set against one wall as a buffet filled with finger foods and dips. Gus was being passed from lesbian to lesbian in the front parlor.

“Justin,” Lindsay greeted him and came over and put her arm around him, “Thank you so much, it’s beautiful.”

He’d done a sketch of Lindsay, Mel and Gus during one of his study halls after they’d had dinner, figuring since he missed the baby shower he should give them something. Brian brought it today so if she had the sketch Brian must be here somewhere; but so far he was not in sight.

“You’re welcome, I saw you liked the one with Brian and thought you and Mel should have something of your own. Gus won’t be this tiny long,” Justin said.

Lindsay must have noticed him looking around and said, “The friends of the father are hiding in the kitchen.”

Justin laughed and said, “I’ll let them know I’m here.”

Emmett had some young Asian man tucked under his arm who if Justin remembered Brian’s stories from before was a hustler. Ted was standing near Michael, who was talking something about women being better at forming relationships than men. Brian was sitting on one of the kitchen counters and when Justin came over he wrapped his legs around him.

They kissed and Justin said, “Jesus, I should have gone out with the girls. You’re all hiding in the kitchen and gossiping - there wouldn’t have been much difference.”

“We’re not hiding,” Brian said, “we’re minimizing exposure.”

“Heaven forbid, you might end up in a relationship,” Justin teased.

“Lindsay’s parents and sister didn’t show,” Michael said.

Justin wasn’t surprised they hadn’t last time but said, “That sucks. Did any of her family?”

“Her parents have asked her not to let her extended family know she’s involved with a woman,” Brian said, sarcastically.

Justin rolled his eyes and changed the subject, “What’s the food like?” Justin said.

Brian shrugged and said, “Lesbian – vegan.”

“So how was your date?” Justin asked Michael.

Michael seemed suddenly aware they were all waiting for his response said, “It was… okay.”

“Mikey didn’t get laid.” Brian volunteered. “All that work and not even a hand job in the front seat.”

“He’s probably romancing him,” Emmett said. “I think it’s sweet.”

Brian made a face and said, “I think it’s sweet that your date keeps asking you for money. Did you forget to pay him?”

“What?” Em said.

“He’s asking to be paid,” Brian said, “Whatever is going on, he thinks it’s a financial transaction.”

“You could have been nicer about that,” Michael said.

Justin asked, “Like lie to him? That’s really not Brian’s style.”

“What language is that?” Ted asked. “I didn’t know you spoke any Pacific Rim tongues.”

“Rim, tongue, see me not going for the obvious,” Brian said to Justin and then addressed Ted, “I speak hustler – that tends to transcend language.”

They eventually moved out of the kitchen. Lindsay wanted to introduce Justin around as his sketch was on display and some of her friends wanted to meet the artist. It had been a long time since the breakfast sandwiches and although he was able to graze on lox and cheese cubes he really wanted a meal. Eventually the guys left agreeing to meet at Woody’s later. Justin and Brian somehow got roped into staying with a friend of Mel’s to help clean up. Or rather Justin cleaned up while Brian napped on the couch along with Gus. That picture might just end up the wallpaper on his phone.

Justin and Marta were carrying the punch bowl between them to dump the remains in the kitchen sink only to come across Lindsay and Mel arguing in the kitchen. Having nowhere to go with the half full bowl they walked into stony silence and a tearful Lindsay. After they emptied the punchbowl, Marta quickly headed back out to the dining room to give them privacy.

Justin figured he should do the same, but remembering all the years of heartache Lindsay’s parents had caused her and how it all had impacted Gus, asked, “Is this about your parents?”

At Lindsay’s nod he said, “Been there, am there actually. You have a decision to make. Are you going to let this go on, hurting you and hurting everyone who loves you – including Gus; or do you embrace what you are and use it.”

Now Mel looked angry at him and was about say something, but Lindsay was getting angry too so was pulling a cool, polite façade over her tears when she asked, “And what am I?”

“You’re a dyke and a WASP; aggressive and manipulative,” Justin said. “Use that. Stop playing this by your parents’ rules. Stop sitting quietly in the corner and waiting for them to come and apologize for the shitty way they’re treating you; because it is shitty. You’ve done everything they have asked for the past however many years. If you don’t change what you’ve been doing; they won’t change. You’re the mother now. You make the rules on how they have to behave if they want to meet their grandson.”

“They don’t want to meet their grandson, that’s the problem,” Mel said.

“Well you’ve got the best ad man in the country, let’s make them want it,” Brian said quietly as leaning against the door frame with a sleeping Gus tucked in the crook of his arm.

Mel seemed to be considering it, despite the suggestion coming from Brian and Brian being at his arrogant best. She asked, “What, take out a billboard?”

Brian smile and said, “No, a whispering campaign; word of mouth. How does one become the talk of the country club set?” He directed that question to Justin and added, “Because I can get these two a membership at the Rivers Club, but despite being dykes I don’t think either of them golf.”

“The Gala,” Justin said. “Mel and Lindsay, you get a babysitter for the 29th, fill your phones with pictures of Gus and dress to the nines and work the room. Anyone you remotely recognize, you introduce, or reintroduce yourself and then Mel as your partner, the reason you haven’t seen them, ‘oh I’m a new mother’ then show the pictures. Dance, network; reconnect with your parents’ world – hell get your picture in the society column, you’ll look better than most of the fossils that attend these things. Within a week, it should be so your parents can’t have lunch or play tennis without someone congratulating them on their new grandchild. They are not going to want people to know they’re shunning their grandson – even if it’s just because it makes them look bad.”

“Probably the best bet,” Brian said, “because this passive-aggressive stance isn’t working. They have all the power, they withhold love, approval and support until you cave or not. That takes no effort on their part and puts all the pain on you. You have to make it so if they hurt you, they hurt themselves.”

Mel must have thought this was an attack on Lindsay because she said, “your parents don’t even know your gay.”

“Yeah they do,” Brian said. “I told them before Gus was born, and they responded just as expected. They’re out of my life. They think until I change my behavior; I think until they change their reactions. They will never be allowed near Gus with hate and vitriol.”

“What is this Gala?” Lindsay asked.

Justin answered, “Cancer Society at the William Penn, one of the largest contributors is seated at our table; you’ll be center stage, any of your parents’ friends there that night will be clamoring to talk to you.”

“I’ll swing by sometime with the tickets,” Brian said. “Listen, Marta hightailed it out so you’re on your on for cleanup.” He passed Gus to Lindsay, kissed him on the head and said, “Later, Sonny Boy.”

“You don’t do cleanup?” Mel asked.

Brian smirked and slung an arm around Justin’s neck and said, “Never send a fag to do a dykes work.”

They went home for a nap and a fuck before heading out to the Woody’s and then Babylon. Devon could have been guarding the bar and Justin wouldn’t have noticed as they spent hours on the dance floor, adjourning twice to the backroom when dirty dancing turned into a fast hard need to devour each other. They hadn’t even tricked or looked at anyone else. Well, Michael had danced with Brian for a while, but Justin just pulled Emmett out because after four hours of testing and four hours of lesbian drama he wanted to dance until he dropped.

David stopped by, whether he just happened to be at the club or if Michael had invited him to meet his friends Justin didn’t know but they kind of looked awkward together. Justin had been too focused on Brian the last time through to pay attention to him. He remembered last time Brian said he was controlling. When they’d talked about it after Michael had left for his date the other night, they’d had the pot/kettle conversation.

Justin got that technically this Brian had more in common with David, than Michael right now. Despite that Brian would be in Michael corner regardless of if Michael was right or not, sort of like with the matter of Michael’s work-wife. Inside this twenty nine year old hard body was a forty five year old father of a teen aged son, who is/was involved with a much younger man. They had never aped the happy hetro behavior of Brian’s despised Stepford fags, but they had the long term relationship David was looking for, even if no one knew it. Justin personally thought David was just looking for a lifestyle, he needed a partner to socialize with other couples, travel and grow old with, any lover could be slotted in and Michael had just been convenient. If David had picked someone like Ted, they would probably have stayed together.

Brian wasn’t nice to him per say but he seemed blandly disinterested. Justin knew this was due to Brian’s opinion that David was not a permanent feature but this time he didn’t seem to be trying to stop it. As they were wrapped around each other swaying to the music he asked why, and Brian said, “Michael’s never been in a relationship. He needs to try it to see what he likes, what works for him. Yeah, he’ll get hurt but he needs this to get ready for one that really can work.”

“Do you think it will be Ben?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “They were good together, happy for the most part – we could introduce them now but that might botch it. Timing has a lot to do with it, they were both ready when they met. There are too many missteps between here and there to tell.”

“I’m glad we shared Ben,” Justin said, “Just in case they don’t get together and he’s out of our life for good.”

“Well if they do get together, this time keep that pretty mouth shut,” Brian said.

Justin grinned, “You’re the Emily Post of gay etiquette.”

“No that’s Emmett,” Brian said.

Justin kissed him and pulled back and asked, “Food, now please?”

Justin went to the bar to round up Ted and Emmett, as they passed them Brian stopped by David and Michael as they danced and said over the music, “Time to feed the beast, Justin’s hungry.”

“He’s always hungry,” Michael said as Brian moved toward the gang.

When they got to the diner the big corner both was being bussed and all six of them were able to slide in around it. Debbie wasn’t on shift and Michael gave a visible sigh of relief after checking for her. Justin got the impression he was holding off to introduce David to his mother until they’d had more than one date.

Somehow between Emmett talking about the dreamy guy he met and Ted talking about the one who’d rejected him the talk turned to relationships. Justin slurped his milkshake while Emmett described his ideal relationship which sounded like an old Audrey Hepburn movie or well, George. Ted’s ideal sounded like the Odd Couple only with sex. Justin thought the closest he could come to his ideal would be Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, but given those movies wouldn’t be out for years and only Michael would get the reference now, and that he didn’t want cast in the role of the woman he kept quiet.

Surprisingly it wasn’t either one of them who baited anyone, it was Emmett who said, “So, Michael what’s your ideal.”

Michael glared at Brian for some reason, who made a face and gesture that said, ‘what? I’m just sitting here,’ before Michael said, “I can’t think of a movie that would have what I would consider ideal.”

“I bet you can think of a comic,” Brian teased, and stole fries from Justin’s platter

Michael said, “Well, Captain Astro and Galaxy Lad come to mind.”

“Really,” Justin asked. “I just don’t see you as a side kick – why not Iron Man and Captain America, sure they clashed a lot but I bet the sex was amazing.”

“They’re not gay,” Michael said.

“Within the lucrative Marvel multiverse, some version of them is banging like a screen door in a tornado, trust me,” Justin said. “And if they’re not I’ll draw you a porn version where they are.”

“Do that, a limited edition by the artist, I’ll be worth a fortune someday,” Michael said.

 

 


	25. Well it shook me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters will have some POV experiments – in 25 there is a shift to Jennifer’s point of view to show her perspective on events half way through and 26 will be Emmett’s perspective – let me know if it’s disruptive to the narrative, it may need to be rewritten. If it works I may be able to use other characters’ POVs later.

The debate Sunday morning was whether Brian should come to brunch with Justin, given that it was likely that Jennifer would be there, and that Brian really didn’t want brunch with old folk to become a staple when it impacted his ability to sleep in. But they’d napped before going out the night before and woke for coffee by nine and were back in bed reading the paper and kveching. Justin found it very hard to win an argument when Brian was naked; Brian knew this and used it shamelessly to his advantage.

Justin knew they were going and that Brian was just making him work for it. First, Brian liked Bertie. Bertie had made his fortune, not inherited it. Second they were going out of town next weekend and Justin would miss brunch as well. A couple hours out of the weekend wasn’t much despite the likelihood of his mom being there.

So they ended up showering together before ten and were dressed and picked up the dry cleaning before pulling into the lot at Redstone before eleven. Justin saw his mom’s car as they walked toward the building, which reduced the odds that his dad was with her, usually when together they took his. That and his dad and grandmother really didn’t think too highly of each other. This, now that he thought of it, must have been weird in light of all the years that his mom and dad had been together. Given the insight he had into his mother’s previous-future relationship with Brian and some of their interactions and contentions it suddenly made him kind of feel sorry for his dad.

As they entered the communal dining area, Justin spotted his mother at Bertie and Elizabeth’s table. It took him and Brian nearly five minutes to make it from the entrance to the table, due to Brian’s growing fan base in the postmenopausal set. His mother looked shocked when the two of them arrived but had covered nicely by the time they made it to the table. Each of them kissed Elizabeth on the cheek, and Brian shook Bertie’s hand as Justin said, “Daph, won’t make it; campus visit.”

Daphne was absent this weekend, both to visit CMU campus with Tracy and to give the Taylor family some privacy if there was a confrontation. Not that she wouldn’t hear all about it on Monday, but Justin appreciated the illusion.

Brian wisely chose the chair across from Jennifer, next to Bertie, and Justin sat between Brian and Elizabeth. The talk was stilted and polite. Jennifer asked how SATs went and how school was going. Justin asked about Molly.

Brian and Bertie quietly talked about business, and Brian’s conviction that the dot com would tank soon and that while Enrone was a good short term investment it didn’t have the staying power and had a year to eighteen months at best. When Bertie asked Justin how business was, Jennifer looked up like she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Better than I expected, and given the timing of the San Francisco opening, I think we might even sell out of the first printing while there.” Justin said, “I was sure that would take at least a year or two.”

“Your subject matter has mass appeal,” Brian said. “But you’re right; whoever set the dates for the tour knows consumers. What kind of media blitz will precede the opening?”

“In addition to the trade publications, there are going to be ads in the InCity and village events sections of many of the free papers, should bring an eclectic crowd,” Justin said.

“They should send complimentary invites to the opening to the concierge of the most upscale hotels, they’re the ones who’ll steer your buyers, the papers are just driving the unwashed masses though the exhibit,” Brian said.

Justin said, “You’re right, but that’s something an agent would do, not the promoters of the tour. I still don’t think I need a dedicated agent. They’d just pressure me to produce and I think until I finish college, I want to produce on my own schedule.”

“To bad you don’t know anyone, who’s off on leave and could make phone calls and arrange for passes to be sent and stuff, maybe part time, so she could pay for an au pair, to keep her from going screaming mad trapped all day with a new baby,” Brian said.

Justin grinned, “Do you think she would?”

“Ask her,” Brian shrugged, “she likes you best.”

Justin quickly explained who Lindsay was and her background in art, that she had attended CMU with Brian and was off on leave from teaching art because of their new baby.

“You have a son?” Jennifer said the first words she’d directed at Brian since hello.

Brian startled and said, “Gus, he’ll be,” he paused and looked at Justin before continuing, “two weeks on Wednesday.”

Justin pulled out his phone with a picture of Lindsay and Mel on the sofa while Gus was being fed. Mel leaned back against the corner; with Lindsay back to front was cradling Gus. He passed it to his grandmother who showed his mother. The next picture was Brian napping after the party with Gus asleep on his chest. Justin said, “This was at the ‘sip and see’ yesterday.”

“Sip and See?” Bertie asked.

“Emmett said it’s a southern thing, like an open house for people to come gawk at the new baby.” Justin said.

Brian added in an aside to Bertie, “Dykes announce everything with invitations and events, they’re worse than fags.”

Justin rolled his eyes at his mother’s indigent look at Brian’s language, but saw her glance toward Elizabeth who was unfazed. And without some support seemed to let it drop

After brunch, as Jennifer got up to leave Justin stood with her and gave her a hug before extending an invitation for her and his father to join them at a charity gala at the end of the month. She said she’d check with his father and politely said goodbye to them all, even Brian.

Justin wasn’t the only one to sigh with relieve when she left and he felt bad, because it hadn’t seemed this much of an uphill battle the last time through. But then he’s always had a feeling Brian hadn’t told him everything regarding his confrontations with Jennifer.

+

Jennifer had tried to get Craig to come with her; he of course claimed that Sunday was too busy for him to be away from the stores. She was a little early and was surprised that her mother wasn’t at her condo. She found her in a parlor in the communal hall, seated next to a gentleman in a wheelchair. She could tell by the way her mother twisted a scarf in her hands that the rift between Justin and them was putting undue strain on her and wondered if that fact would have any influence on getting Justin to move back home. Jennifer was abruptly jarred from such thoughts when the man next to her mother reached over and took her hand – and she let him. Her mother seemed to calm down and nodded at whatever words were said before smiling at him.

He was the same man her mother had been sitting with when she stopped to see her earlier in the week to break the news about running into Justin with a man – Burt or something. Jennifer had been initially upset that her mother had already met Brian and knew he and Justin were dating. Why she wouldn’t have let her know he was seeing a much older man was beyond her. And although her mother had pointed out that the reason she knew was the Justin trusted her not to fly off the handle, make a scene or tell his parents had been sobering but hurtful.

Jennifer entered the parlor and greeted them both. After a few moments her mother’s friend excused himself and left them alone to talk. They had only been talking a short time and Jennifer found herself tearing up again.

“Enough,” Elizabeth said. “Jenny, you have to pull yourself together. You can’t simply cry at Justin every time he does something you don’t like. That won’t make him change; that will only make him avoid you.”

“He hasn’t called since that night at the restaurant,” Jennifer sniffed.

“Did you call him? If someone publically embarrassed you, Jennifer, you would be waiting for an apology,” Elizabeth said, “Justin has pride, too. He loves you but your tears are beginning to lose their power over him. Frankly the way you and Craig have behaved - and I don’t mean because of the homosexual aspect, I mean over Justin growing up. You can’t tell me if this was a young lady he was seeing you would be making any less drama. And from an outside observer it is as if you have been making him play house with you for the last seventeen years and now he wants to play a new game both Craig and you have essentially taken your ball and gone home - a flawed metaphor perhaps, but since you’ve shown a playground level of maturity, apt.”

“Mother!” Jennifer said, and looked around to make sure they were alone. “That man is nearly thirty.”

“This isn’t about Brian. This is about Justin. Do you trust Justin to think for himself? Do you trust Justin to know his own heart and to act in his own best interest? Because the message you both are sending is that you think can live that young man’s life better than he can. And from talking to Justin and getting to know him as an adult and not that adorable little boy you brought into this world I have to say he thinks you should get your own lives in order before you try to mess up his.” Elizabeth said.

Jennifer huffed and said, “How can you say that? This man is nearly twice as old as Justin, he’s obviously seduced him. It’s sick-”

“Stop that nonsense right now!” Elizabeth snapped. “There is your problem in a nutshell. Brian is twelve years older that Justin. And you are desperately trying to keep Justin at the age of twelve for the rest of his life. He’s nearly eighteen and legally an adult. He told you he was gay before he met Brian and he told me he was gay long before he told you.”

“Why would you not have come to me,” Jennifer started.

Elizabeth sighed, “He asked me not to. He said, mom will probably be okay with it eventually, but she’ll insist on dealing with it and force me out to dad and when he finds out, he’ll give me an ultimatum, be straight or get out. Jennifer, did it happen any differently than what he said? And while you’re considering that, consider how quickly he was emancipated from the time you kicked him out. He spent time making sure he was ready for it, that he could survive when, not if, Craig tossed him out. He expected it.”

“I didn’t kick him out, he left. I would never-” she said.

Elizabeth said, “He didn’t want to put you in a position to have to choose. I think he knew which way you’d jump or not jump. Was it easy to stand by and cry while your husband tossed you son out of your home? Did any part of you want to scream ‘my children stay with me – you get out instead’? Because Justin was living on his own as an adult, when he met another adult and started dating him. Brian has made an effort, he came here with Justin specifically to be introduced; he’s stops by to pick Justin up when he’s visiting. I can assure you this man does not drive by high schools looking for vulnerable young boys. I think it’s safe to assume that when they met he thought Justin was older and was as shocked to find out his age as you were when he told you his.”

“He doesn’t actually look thirty,” Jennifer reluctantly admitted.

“And Justin,” Elizabeth said, “doesn’t act seventeen. Jennifer, if it wasn’t Brian; it would be someone else and Justin doesn’t have the patience for dealing with a teenager, despite being one.”

Their talk moved on to how things were at home and in her mother’s words if Craig were still being insufferable. It wasn’t that Craig wasn’t dealing with this well it was just that he wasn’t dealing with it. He and Justin had exchanged politely disinterested greetings on Thanksgiving but since Justin had left home Craig may as well not had a son. Craig had been white knuckled and stonily silent on the way home from Valhalla when they ran into Justin out with his – friend. However Jennifer wasn’t sure if it was because he was as appalled as she had been by their age difference or if he was upset that she had drawn attention to them and made a scene. She had no doubt if Craig had stumbled on to them he would have not only pretended not to see them, but never mentioned it to her.

As people began to move into the communal dining area, Elizabeth led the way to a table over near a corner with wide windows on either side. Her friend, who Jennifer remembered was a recent widower at that, was already seated with his back to the window. An attendant brought carafes of tea and coffee, apparently knowing who preferred which, before asking Jennifer what she would like. The girl jokingly asked if they would like two carafes of coffee left for ‘the boys’. Her mother agreed it would save steps.

That gave Jennifer pause. She hadn’t thought much of Justin’s visits to her mother when Justin was at home or their frequency. When he asked for an annual bus pass at the beginning of the summer it made sense. He had that summer program and didn’t want to be dropped and picked up from school. She had been the one to nix the idea of Justin getting car at sixteen; too many stories of teens and drunk driving. Every time she read a story in the paper about young people in car accidents she grieved for their parents. To lose a child was unthinkable but to have handed them the means by which they died must be worse. But he had used the pass not only to get to and from school but to go where he wanted when he wanted. For most of the summer she had never been sure where he was, outside of his summer classes. He could have been with anyone, doing anything.

She was startled out of her dark thoughts by the sight of them at the dining room entrance. Justin and his friend; well she obviously couldn’t call him a boyfriend – he was no boy. Apparently, Justin spent some of his missing hours here. She’d never been able to catch him in a lie about where he was despite her suspicions. Justin was greeted by many of the residents; surprisingly Brian seemed to be known as well. Well, he was certainly handsome enough to turn heads. The female residents, which granted made up the majority seemed delighted to see him.

After making their greetings, Justin made excuses for Daphne’s absence. Jennifer knew Justin often caged rides from Daphne but was unaware she’d been accompanying him on his visits enough to be missed. She asked about school and his SATs. She wondered if his grades were slipping and if he had been prepared since he opted out of the pre-test course. She knew she’d pushed too much when he asked about Molly; a typical teen Justin found his little sister to be the bane of his existence.

While she’d been trying to find out how things were going Jennifer couldn’t help notice Brian was engaged in business talk with Bertie. They seemed like old friends. She wondered if he were the reason Brian and Justin met. When their conversation about Molly died down, she was surprised when this Bertie asked Justin how business was, as if a seventeen year old boy had a business. She was more surprised when Justin talked about sales projections and market timings.

Brian chimed in suggestions on increasing sales and alternatives to getting an agent. Jennifer would just have told Justin to let the experts handle it or offered to get him an agent herself. Brian said, ‘you should’, or ‘you could’ but made it pretty clear that what Justin did in regard to his art was his call. Brian talked to him as an equal, someone who knew what he wanted and while he might need advice on an area Brian was experienced in, such as marketing, the decisions were all Justin’s to make.

When Justin explained who it was that Brian had referred to when he suggested getting someone to act as an agent part time, Jennifer couldn’t stop from blurting, “You have a son?”

And suddenly he looked as young as Justin and then he looked at her son with a soft look that you would expect new parents to share with each other and said, “Gus, he’ll be two weeks on Wednesday.”

Justin, like a proud parent, was soon sharing pictures. There were two young women and a week of sleepless nights had not yet driven the look of awe off their faces. And the next one showed father and son dozing together; Craig had never looked that relaxed and at ease holding Justin when he was that tiny. Justin said, “This was at the ‘sip and see’ yesterday.”

While Justin explained what a sip and see was Jennifer wondered how her son, whose life she had felt a part of such a short time ago seemed to develop so many ties to various people she’d never met. She remembered when he’d come strolling up to her and Molly that day they went shopping. Daphne, she recognized, but the other girls were hanging on him, kissing him goodbye like they were getting on a plane instead of going to a movie when they would see him Monday at school. He had called them the girls, as he had called her mother and her friends the girls and know doubt called these lesbian mothers of his friend, the girls. For all she knew he referred to this Emmett person who was he first man he’d referred to beside Brian as one of the girls. She’d never felt so much distance from her baby before.

She wondered if he was punishing her. He’d told her to not bring in Craig. Could she have kept him home, at least until graduation if she hadn’t told Craig? She wondered what she had hoped to accomplish by that; perhaps the same she hoped to in taking him to a therapist; to have someone fix the fact that her baby refused to stay her baby. He had accurately predicted how Craig would react, although Jennifer wasn’t blind; she could see Justin knew how to press his father’s buttons. He had all but made him kick him out. Justin had refused to compromise to let Craig set any boundaries. Much like he’d attacked the therapist.

Although Lorraine had been adamant that Justin had merely stated, clearly without sugar-coating it that he did not need a stranger helping him sort through confused thoughts, but that he was someone quite sure of who he was and what he believed. She’d been seeing Lorraine weekly and Justin had been the one to recommend that as well. Lorraine spouted much of what Justin had said about not being able to control other people. Lorraine often had to direct their sessions back to Jennifer. ‘What do you think? What do you feel? Jennifer you can’t change other people’s feelings only your own.’ Jennifer often wondered how Justin seemed to have that down. Had he read it? He’d never been in therapy; she would have known – regardless of how independent he was acting if he had been he certainly couldn’t have paid for it.

She was jarred out of her ponderings by the vulgarities that tripped off Brian’s tongue. Her mother and Mr. Kaufmann seemed oblivious as if terms like ‘fag’ and ‘dyke’ were acceptable anywhere let alone at the table. She wondered just how long Brian had known Justin and if he were at all responsible for the coarseness of his language. Although that had happened seemingly overnight when he turned seventeen; she’d put it down to Justin trying to seem grownup. What was worse was she saw that her mother and her friend seemed unfazed by it. And Justin seeing her reaction just rolled his eyes and smiled fondly at Brian.

When Justin rose to kiss her goodbye he extended an invitation for her and Craig to join them at a benefit gala. Her first instinct was to beg off with conflicting plans because she knew Craig would not attend. Jennifer second was shock not because Justin was going but because it might mean he didn’t intend to see them until then. Elizabeth had hosted Thanksgiving at the William Penn, Craig and Justin had said hello and goodbye and not a word in between. Justin had been politely disinterested in his father but anyone outside the family would not have noticed the rift, they just ignored each other.

It hit her, suddenly and certain that even if she invited Justin home for Christmas, he would never come unless Craig invited him. And really if they wanted him there he should have been invited at Thanksgiving, for all she knew he’d be with this Brian’s family. It felt like no matter what she did, she would never get her family back together. She remembered Justin saying ‘I don’t want you to have to choose’ and that he wasn’t sure she would choose him. Had she chose already? Craig said he wasn’t welcome until he stopped this behavior. That meant that last Christmas would be the last one they had together at home. They might run into each other visiting her mother, but their family was truly broken. This wasn’t like a child going off to college. Their son lived in the same city, she might run into him at the market or running errands but he was out of their daily lives and would stay that way. Justin could be just as unyielding as his father. Neither of them would bend, Craig would never ask him back and Justin would never acquiesce to Craig’s terms. Suddenly it was important that she get out quickly. She felt she would tear up and her mother’s words about using tears to manipulate Justin still rang in her ears. She said she would talk to his father and let him know.


	26. It took me by surprise

Emmett breezed into the diner and stopped to greet some friends and took a seat at the counter to wait for a booth to free up. He had the day off but came out for breakfast anyway since Michael was trying to sleep in due to having a late shift today after a late night at Babylon. Torso was bad enough but the Big Q had early hours and late hours and was open seven days a week so Michael pretty much ended up having to be available all the time. Even if it hadn’t had such an oppressive homophobic atmosphere there was no job Emmett would give up that much of his social life for a retail position when he could work at a shop with more predictable hours.

Deb wasn’t on shift either so this might be the best time to talk to Brian. Emmett dreaded talking to Brian, at least about anything serious. It wasn’t the cutting remarks as much as Brian’s ability to see behind words and tone and strip to the most painful truth, pull it out into the light and poke it with a stick. But Brian hadn’t been as bad lately. It had nothing to do with Justin, regardless of Michael thinking the kid had some sort of mind control powers. Despite the sardonic twist to his mouth and tone, Emmett had caught Brian looking at him and even Ted in the past months with, dare he say, fondness.

Of course since Emmett wanted to talk to him about Michael, Brian might actual listen. Everyone knew that at the gooey center of the heartless Brian Kinney’s universe was Michael Novotny. Everyone except of course Michael, Emmett thought. And Emmett could understand Michael’s little unrequited crush on the aforementioned heartless bastard, because it wasn’t on the studly sex shark desired by one and all, but on Brian, his high school hero. If Emmett had had that sarcastic, stubborn boy beside him while navigating the hell of Hazelhurst High he’d have fallen hard and permanently for him as well. Ironically Emmett had been the one pointing out to Michael for just about forever how he needed to live his life without comment or approval from Brian. They could be friends forever but Michael didn’t need to be one of Brian’s Lost Boys, never growing up. Emmett had encouraged Michael to look for a boyfriend instead of a fuck and to build ties in the community outside clubbing; ties besides Brian.

But something had changed in the spring; Brian had somehow grown up without Michael. It wasn’t obvious, Brian had always worked as hard as he played and that hadn’t overtly changed. Understandably his style of dress had been the first thing Emmett noticed. It was subtle but he’d gone from trendy to classic; valued quality over name. Before Brian would want whatever cost the most, now he looked at material content regardless of the designer and was buying more silk and cotton over wool or linen. Comfort and showing off his body in the best light trumped label and which issue of GQ or InStyle it was in.

His workout had changed as well. Before the gym was a place to hook up and to maintain a good looking body. But Brian hit the Stairmaster and stationary bike for cardio and had upped the focus on his core. Before his focus had been on his abs and arms, and for his cardio he used sex in the showers and steam room. Brian had the advantage of always having been the first to leave, the gym, the clubs, before it had been with tricks and since nothing obvious had changed Michael hadn’t noticed any break in the routine until the morning Brian had shown up with the trick from the night before and apparently kidnapped him. No, the change Michael was attributing to Justin had been percolating away for months. The others just hadn’t noticed.

Michael and Ted rarely looked past their expectations of Brian. Michael saw a hero and poor sweet jealous Teddy saw a villain. Brian was such a fixture they looked passed him and never at him. So the upheaval of the last week was sending dear Michael into tailspin. Michael had finally really looked at Brian and realized he was different. It wasn’t his hair or even his clothes. It wasn’t even the besotted look in his eyes when he looked at that boy. It was all of that and more. First the way he’d found himself a boy toy, literally scooped him up off the street corner and installed him in his life as if falling in love and starting a relationship were easier than picking out a box of cereal at the grocery store. After all those times Brian poked at him regarding love at first sight, he went and became an example of it.

And now Brian, who had scoffed at the idea of a family, was being a responsible father. Michael had spent a good five minutes watching Brian and his son cuddled on the couch at Lindsay and Mel’s, as if they all hadn’t know the baby was arriving. Michael had raved about it at Woody’s until Brian and Justin had shown up. Apparently it never occurred to Michael that when Lindsay asked Brian to father her child it would mean he would actually become a father. Justin didn’t help matters, the kid took almost orgasmic pleasure in winding Michael up, but it was obvious he meant no harm by it. It was like a little brother teasing the bigger kids.

Justin had slotted into Brian’s life like a key in a lock. The two sniped like old married people, fucked like newlyweds and shared a wordless communication that spoke of the kind of history Brian only had with Michael. So Michael was clubbing harder when he wasn’t dithering about his doctor and pulling his hair out over Brian being body-snatched by some high school twink. While Brian seemed to be deliriously happy, Michael was fretting himself into an early grave.

Once a booth had freed and been bussed, Emmett slid in facing the door. He’d arrived early, both to keep from clunking around the apartment and waking Michael and because with school and all, Brian and his boy were often there first. The word had spread up and down Liberty Avenue. The great god Kinney was in love. There was a hefty betting pool on how long it would last among those who had been tossed from Brian’s bed with his usual gallantry.

And there they were, Brian and Justin, walking with an eerie synchronization, anticipating who would grab the door and hold it and who would walk though without awkwardness or apparent consultation, like they’d been doing it for years. It wasn’t any sort of role assumption like sub or dom, Justin grabbed it just as often as Brian and whoever it was held for walked through as if it was just another step in their daily dance. Michael’s little fantasies might have Brian as exclusively a top but Emmett had found that the way a man presented himself and the way things played out between the sheets were rarely the same thing. Given the squawking outrage with which Michael had leaked Brian switching it up with his new flame you would think Michael had never dragged home what looked like a big beefy top only to find the bad boy wanted to be pounded all night. Emmett sure had, it wasn’t like he was incapable of stepping up to the plate; a gentleman never let a paramour go home unsatisfied. Most were able to willingly if inexpertly return the favor; there was something to be said about youth and enthusiasm.

Brian slid into the bench seat, with Justin who offered Kiki a big smile that got them coffee faster than a request would have, accompanied with a ‘be right with you’ in regard to their ordering.

“No Mikey this morning?” Brian asked, and yeah they were roommates so they did tend to come together most of the time.

Emmett smiled and said, “Late shift so he’s catching up on some sleep.” And then, added pointedly, “He’s been playing pretty hard lately.”

“Between work, his girlfriend and Dr. Dave when does he have time?” Justin said. “With just school and Brian, I swear if we weren’t going away this weekend I’d say we lock the door and hide from the world.”

“You’re going away?” Em said.

Kiki finally came and took their orders. After that, Brian said, “You wouldn’t have mentioned this if you weren’t worried. Spit it out would you; minus the queenly film noir commentary.”

Emmett dropped his pitch, to what he thought of as his ‘straight voice’ back home and said without his usual flair, “Michael doesn’t really look at you, Brian. Not day-to-day, you’re like one of his action figures on display on a shelf. He knows you so well, he knows what you’re supposed to be so he gets a shock when he looks over and notices you not where he left you. To him you’ve morphed overnight like a shape shifter from one of his comics. He hasn’t noticed all the changes to you over the course of a year; to him it’s like the minute you met Justin you became a different person. He’s shaken to the core and likely to stage an intervention.”

Justin and Brian shared a look and Brian asked, “By playing hard, you mean fucking? drinking? drugs? what?”

“Well as far as I know it’s just poppers and drinks a bit harder than his usual beer,” Emmett said. “He hasn’t mentioned going to the baths – as far as I know he’s never goes if you’re not there to keep an eye out for him. But he’s heading for the backroom more often, especially on nights you don’t show.”

Another look was exchanged and this time it was Justin, who spoke, “Sounds like you need to spend some quality bonding time.”

“We’re not dykes,” Brian said, and then turned back to Emmett and asked, “What’s he working today?”

“One to ten, well they close at ten, by the time he gets the bus home it’ll be around eleven,” Emmett said.

“I need to start that project,” Justin said. “After school, I’ll head to the studio and get started, I can spend the night. You pick him up from work and revisit the Brian and Mikey show. Listen to some music, smoke some pot; explain to him he’ll always be your best girl. I mean friend.” Justin gasped as Brian’s elbow connected with his ribs.

Just as the food arrived, Ted showed up and ordered coffee and a sandwich before Kiki could disappear again.

“So where are you going on your trip,” Emmett asked.

Ted gave Emmett a significant look and said, “Is it a romantic weekend in the country, will there be flowers, will you meet his mother, and get invited over to dinner?”

Brian looked at Ted like he was crazy before answering Emmett, “Justin has an exhibit opening Friday in San Francisco. “

“Neither of us are really country people,” Justin said smugly to Ted, “I have allergies, and Brian’s already met my mother, they’ve had brunch.”

Emmett couldn’t suppress a squeal and said to Ted, “You know what this means?” And Ted joined in when he said to Brian and Justin, “You’re boyfriends.”

Brian rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t drop out of his head, but Justin grinned as if he was the only one who knew the punchline. Emmett was stunned, he’d watched Brian trade hard liquor for beer and drink more water than alcohol most evenings, and thankfully start to replace some of those calories with food. He’d noticed more gum and less cigarettes and cutting out earlier but the lack of anger or even verbal denial that he could ever be anyone’s boyfriend stopped Emmett short. No wonder Michael’s head was spinning. The fact that Brian wasn’t loudly declaring his disbelief that two men could be a couple; that any attempt was just aping a heteronormative lifestyle was the most stunning of all.

After that, Ted and Emmett started talking about men from the night before, not that the one Ted was talking about had gone home with him. Justin and Brian finished up and paid. Emmett watched them leave before asking Ted, “What’s the longest time so far in that pool?”

Ted said, “Well it was ten days but they passed that on Saturday. I think I heard its fifteen now. Why?”

“Does the pot keep building? If I pick a year now, will I get it all if there together then?” Emmett asked.

Ted snorted and said, “Given that it started with the bets being placed in hourly increments I think you should wait until it moves from how many days into how many weeks before you place a bet.”

“Teddy,” Emmett said, “I think I’m going to choose that they don’t split. So how long before that would pay out?”

“You’re serious,” Ted said.

Emmett nodded knowingly and said, “This is it for Brian. You can see it in his eyes.”

“What about the kid?” Ted asked.

Emmett shrugged and said, “Him, I don’t know. But at his age, if someone had handed you Brian Kinney on a silver platter, what would you have done?”

“Brian can be a real asshole. He’s sarcastic, narcissistic and just plain mean,” Ted said.

Emmett looked dismissive and said, “Right at seventeen you were above great sex with a gorgeous man you were holding out for someone with generous spirit and scintillating wit.”

“No at seventeen I was thinking with my dick, kind of like now actually, only I hadn’t learned what utter bastards men can be if you don’t have the face and body of Brian Kinney,” Ted said.


	27. He had a pick-up truck

Justin pushed the sleeve of his paint-splattered sweatshirt back up over his elbow. He’d stopped for take out and got beef and broccoli on the way over to his studio after school. It had to be close to eight and he really needed to get a clock in the studio, other than the travel alarm by the bed.

He had picked out canvas sizes for the paintings he’d planned so far and lined them up against the wall with notes, well, all but one that looked like it would be bigger so he might have to order that on or stretch it himself in the big bedroom. It wouldn’t be as high as the dressing room painting but it was as long but would only be four feet high. He wanted it to be like a window filled with all the activity of a street where patrons walked and laughed and even played instruments while moving from one club to the next.

He felt really good about this series; it had an energy similar to the burlesque tribute that the historical buildings lacked. He’d been working on his first paining for a couple hours when there was a knock at his door. Brian would kill him if he was murdered in some sort of home invasion. He crossed to the door and looked out one of the three small rectangular windows in the door to see his mom on the darkened stoop. He flipped on the exterior light, opened the door and let her in.

“I was driving by, I saw the light,” Jennifer said. Justin chose not to ask why she happened to be driving by alone after all she could have swung by on her way back from Redstone, if she veered off course.

“Yeah, I have this idea I needed to get down,” Justin said and crossed to the fridge. “Do you want some water?”

Jennifer declined and Justin launched into a description of his idea for his next project. He showed her the books on the jazz clubs of the Hill District and the plans he’d mapped out for five paintings so far. He’d showed her the one he’d started; it was Dizzy Gillespie playing on stage of the Hurricane Club, with Ms. Birdy standing off to the side in a white cocktail dress, the skirt wide with crinolines and the collar of its V-neck high and starched. It still needed a lot of the details painted in but Justin was really happy with how it looked. The books and photos he’d managed to find had very little in the way of exterior shots but he remembered Stella’s stories and let his imagination fill in some of the backgrounds.

“I didn’t think you’d be here, your grandmother said you’d moved,” Jennifer stopped choking back a sob and Justin looked around, he hadn’t picked up tissues, he wasn’t sure he’d restocked toilet paper either. It had been a while since he worked there. He was getting really tired of her just crying for no reason.

“I don’t have tissues, mom,” he said, feeling like a heartless bastard but this needed to be said, “maybe you could just wait and cry when there’s something to cry about.”

“Justin,” she said, sharply.

“What?” He said, and dropped on the built in banquette feeling like the petulant seventeen-year-old he’d been the first time through. “It seems every time you look at me anymore you start crying. Because I’m not straight or because I’m sexually active, or I won’t hide what I am and pretend to be someone you’re not ashamed of-”

“Justin I’m not ashamed of you,” Jennifer said.

“Not as long as I’m one of those token gay characters from television, the guy next door who makes biting observations and remains firmly asexual or sexually frustrated. God forbid I’m proud of the fact I like cock; that needs to be whispered or better yet not mentioned. I don’t want to pass as straight, not even for you. I don’t want to lie so dad isn’t embarrassed, I did it for too long, I won’t go back into the closet,” Justin said.

“No one wants you in the closet,” she said.

“The horrified looks on both your and dad’s faces when you ran into Brian and I, dare I say it, in public like any other couple having dinner say differently,” Justin said. “Dad certainly didn’t drag you away to spare my feelings; he was worried someone he knew would be there.”

“That’s because that man is so much older than you.” She said, “You’re a minor-”

“No, I’m not. I am legally an adult. I had to emancipate because of my sexuality and my parents intolerance of it. I can have sex with whomever I damn well please, just like you can,” Justin said. “Yes Brian is twelve years older than me. Yes, I have moved in with him. Yes, I love him; he loves me. None of these things are going to be changed by tears or yelling or by shunning me like your dirty little secret. I have nothing to be ashamed of, and neither does Brian.”

“I’m not ashamed of you Justin, I love you. But you’re not a grownup I know you feel like one and that you think that this is love but this man is taking advantage of your naivety. He’s using you, honey, I just don’t want you to get hurt,” she said.

“Because you’re saying that in no way hurts me. I doesn’t hurt that you think I’m stupid and have poor judgement and can’t read people or even communicate properly with them,” Justin said. “So I guess this means you’ve done a crap job at parenting. Because if you were in any way competent by seventeen I should be old enough to decide who to trust; and if I’m so sheltered that you have to screen people before I get laid; well that sounds like we’re moving into some uncomfortable Norman Bates territory here Mom.”

“Justin,” she said, “that is uncalled for.”

“How is Brian taking advantage of me, Mom? How is he using me? Sex? He can have it for the asking, and not just me – anyone. He can literally have anyone, but he’s with me. Anyone but me would certainly be easier, more convenient not have people interrupting him when he’s out to dinner and treating him like some kind of pervert.” Justin said, “Let’s say you succeed. You make being with me so intolerable that Brian walks away, says sorry Justin, you’re just not worth it. You’re happy. Dad’s happy. I’m not, but let’s, if nothing else, be honest - my happiness is not your priority. You want everything back to the status quo. If I’m miserable, will it really matter, as long as you and Dad are back in control?”

“We just want to protect you,” she said and the tears were back.

Justin sighed and said, “From what, Mom? Life? While you’re stepping in protecting me; who’s protecting me from you? There’s a reason you’re not still pushing me around in a stroller. You had to let me learn how to walk, how to fall and how to get back up on my own. It’s time to do that again.”

“When you’re older you’ll understand. You think you’re ready for this but you not,” Jennifer said. “You should be with someone your own age.”

Justin had never, since reawakening on his seventeenth birthday wanted to spill the beans more. Just to be able to say ‘I’m three years older than Brian’s physical body’ to his mother was almost worth the psych eval it would result in. “Mom, most gay kids my age are so closeted they’d be likely to kill me if I made a pass. And honestly, aside from not finding shaggy scrawny teens attractive, I really don’t have any sort of patience to deal with emotional teenaged angst. Brian treats me like an equal. He listens and he lets me make my own decisions. I’ve admitted Brian may find me not worth the effort; I’m sure you’ll enjoy saying ‘I told you so’ if that happens. But what is your plan if five or ten years from now, I’m still with him? Let me guess, that’s something you’ll have to discuss with dad.”

She looked guilty and then suggested, “Maybe you could bring him to dinner, give us a chance to get to know him.”

“I’m sure Brian will be as enthusiastic as Craig about that idea, but I can get him there, unless he’s tied up with work. You think we should pick somewhere we never want to go back to in case we get thrown out?” Justin asked.

“I though you could bring him home,” Jennifer said, “this Friday?”

“You need to clear something like that with Dad, and have him let me know that the queers coming to his house won’t result in a call to the police. But, I’m out of town this weekend; break starts next week, maybe a week night, give us an excuse to cut the evening short if there’re too many tears and the neighbors call the police,” Justin said.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

Justin said, “The exhibit opens this weekend at the San Francisco MOMA. I’ll be like it was here; grueling. But, my work in a MOMA even as a traveling exhibit – sure makes all those years of being harassed for being an art fag easier to stomach.”

“Justin, that’s wonderful,” she said. “I had no idea. I mean I knew you had those talks with Mr. Ferris about having prints made, but this is huge.”

“Yeah, when they said they were sending it on tour I was picturing other backwater towns like the ‘burgh, maybe a mall tour – but it went to the MCA in Chicago and the reviews were so good, they booked San Francisco, then Phoenix, Dallas and Atlanta. By this time next year it may even hit Boston or New York.” Justin said, “Unless of course the next new trend knocks it out of the rotation.”

“I can come with you, I don’t like the idea of you being alone in a strange city,” She said.

Justin sighed, “That’s very nice of you to offer, but unnecessary. Brian’s coming with me. He’ll bite the bullet and be my arm candy for the evening; as long as we shop before coming back.”

“Justin, if something should happen you’ll need an adu-” she started.

“He has my power of attorney, living will and medical proxy,” Justin said. “And I have his.” At her shocked look Justin added, “A friend of ours had an accidental overdose – he’s fine now. But, it got all of us thinking. Brian’s legal next of kin is his father, who says his fag son should be dead and his mother, who says he’s destined to burn in hell for all eternity. He didn’t want them deciding to pull a plug just to save his family the embarrassment. ”

“You’re too young to have that kind of responsibility placed on you,” Jennifer said.

“Which is why,” Justin said, “I named Brian, as mine, he has faith in me. He treats me like an adult. Adults don’t have all the answers or always make the right decisions. Being an adult is willingness to accept the consequences of your actions and your decisions. I don’t know how to pass whatever hurtle you’ve imagined to finally make me an adult in your eyes. Which is why I didn’t want the power to decide my fate going back to you if I’m incapacitated; Brian would do everything in his power to make sure I had ever opportunity to take control of my life back as soon as possible. Your decisions would all be based on keeping me safe, what you think is safe, without regard to my wishes.”

“How can you say such a thing,” she said and the tears were back.

“How can I not?” he asked, “You keep telling me you know what’s best, that my decisions don’t count because of my age or my experience. Here, now, while I’m conscious you’re arguing and telling me you know better than me in regard to my life and my happiness. That doesn’t give me much faith that you would abide by my wishes if I was incapacitated. I trust Brian to always make me make my own decisions – whether I want to or not.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said.

“No apologies, no excuses, no regrets,” Justin said. “The only way to live like that is to make your own choices and prepare to deal with the consequences of your actions. It’s not easy. It’s so much easier to let someone else take over for you – but that’s a slippery slope. How far is it from saying you have to check with Dad before making plans with people that you don’t want to see; to letting Dad decide who you associate with? If I get lazy and try to push choices about my life off on Brian he’ll say ‘no way Sunshine, that’s your call’ that’s why I trust him to make the call if I am unable.”

She didn’t look happy about that and true to WASP protocols changed the subject. She did look oddly surprised when he asked about Molly, sure there was nearly ten years between them but they had lived in the same house for all of her life and he was attached to the little stain. He asked if she’d talked to Craig about the Gala and she admitted he’d said he wouldn’t go. Justin knew that meant that she wouldn’t be coming because his mother, at least this 1.25 version of his mother - not the one who had graduated from the Debbie Novatny school of PFLAG support, would never go to a black tie event without his father.

“Maybe we should hold off on trying to throw Brian and Craig together for dinner until after New Year’s, you must be organizing the company holiday party, and then Christmas for Molly, I have the show and there’s a fundraiser for Liberty House I kind of volunteered for over the school break and the Gala, did you maybe want tickets anyway, you could come without Dad. Maybe bring a friend?” Justin asked.

“No, I don’t think I should go without your father,” she said. “You’re probably right about this time of year being hard to get together.” And she looked like she was fighting tears and Justin just wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be alright. But he couldn’t and it wasn’t up to him. He could tell her she’d be happier without Craig, to ditch him, go in to real estate and find herself a much younger man but how would that be any different than her trying to split him from Brian.

“Well, it was good seeing you,” he said. Thankfully she made her way out before starting to cry again. Justin sighed and went into the bedroom, checked the alarm was set. It was only 10:30, Brian might not have even picked Michael up yet. They would most likely be up talking until two or three. He was feeling grumpy about not having Brian next to him, being able to hear him breath and feel the warmth of his body lying next to him. It would hardly make sense to bus down to the diner only to come all the way back out to school, so he probably wouldn’t see him until after work tomorrow.

The energy that had him flying high and getting so much work down was drained. He hated the idea of sleeping alone, waking up without Brian and having to go to school – it felt like doing time. It wasn’t just his mother and the ongoing family drama. He knew quitting school and having Brian quit his job and then just spending the next fifteen years in bed was not a viable option. But right now logic wasn’t playing a big role and he dozed off with his sweatshirt and cargo pants still on.

+

Brian took a nap after work and called Michael about nine, it was a little after ten when he pulled in front of the Big Q. Michael walked out with Tracey, they said good night and she walked toward the bus stop. Michael got in and Brian said, “Where’re you manners Mikey? Offer her a ride.”

“What? No way, you’re up to something-” he stared.

Brian ignored him and pulled forward to the bus stop, hit the passenger’s side window switch and called across Michael, “Tracey? I’m Brian, can we drop you somewhere? It’s pretty cold to wait for a bus.”

“If it’s no trouble,” she said. Michael got into the back seat and Tracey slipped into the passenger seat, “I’m in Friendship.”

Brian said, “Shit, I thought Mikey lived in a crap neighborhood.”

“No, it’s not bad and my buildings very secure. I like it, I’m near the park and it’s close to everything,” She said. Silence stretched in the car and she asked, “So how long have you been friends?”

“God. What? Fifteen years or more?” Brian said, glancing at the rearview mirror. “We’re more brothers than friends, Mikey’s mom has a real big heart, gave me a place to stay when it wasn’t safe at home.”

As they waited at a light on the Bloomfield Bridge Tracey said, “Would you like to come up for a drink? My roommate Sharon, she’s really pretty, and single.”

“Gay, very gay, but thanks,” Brian said and then glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Michael looking pale and open mouthed.

Tracey said, “Oh, okay. Hey my neighbor Paul, he’s gay and single, he’s a little older than you but he’s a great cook.”

“You have a great future as a yenta,” Brian said as the light changed.

He turned in and started to circle the park and she said, “It’s the white one with the lights on the banister.”

“It was nice to meet you Tracey,” Brian said as she got out of the Jeep.

Tracey looked into the back seat and then back at Brian, “You too Brian, thanks for the ride. Night, Michael, see you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Michael said as he moved into the front seat.

As they pulled away Michael smacked Brian on the shoulder and said, “What the hell was that?”

“What it was like five minutes out of our way, you just wanted to let her stand there in the cold?” Brian asked, finishing circling the small green space and heading toward the Strip.

“You told her you were gay,” Michael said.

Brian took his eyes off the road, looked at Michael and said, “I am.”

“But you didn’t need to tell her, now she’ll think I am,” Michael said. Brian just looked at him and Michael added, “Okay, I am, but she doesn’t know that and now she’ll think I am.”

“Mikey, gay people, and I know a few, can have straight friends,” Brian said, “if you want to stay closeted, that’s your decision but don’t pull me in with you. She seems open-minded and like she would keep your secret if you need it to remain a secret. But if you want to go on lying to her then fine, but how far is this going to go? You going to marry her? Start talking trash about fags at work? Vote republican? Where does your secret identity end?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Michael said.

“Just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean I don’t understand,” Brian said, taking a short cut and coming out behind the clubs in the Strip to the less populated areas down by the warehouses and to approach from behind the building where his loft was.

“Grab that bag out of the back seat,” Brian said.

Michael asked, “What’s in it?”

“Wings, breaded shrimp and fried zucchini,” Brian said.

“Are you dying? What happened to no carbs after seven?” Michael said as they entered the elevator.

Brian said, “Your mom said I need to gain weight.”

“She tells everyone that, you’ve never listened to her,” Michael persisted as Brian lifted he gate once they were on his floor. He opened the door of the loft and got a couple bottles of beer out of the fridge as Michael started to take the Styrofoam containers out of the bag and place them on the kitchen island. “Where’s the boy wonder?” he asked.

“At his studio,” Brian said, opening the bottles and handing one to Michael. “You really don’t like him do you?”

“He’s a kid. He’s too young for you,” Michael said.

Brian snickered and fired up a joint after inhaling deeply he passed it to Michael and slowly let the smoke out and asked, “How much older than you is Dr. Dave?”

“That’s different,” Michael said and toked.

“You ever think maybe it’s not? That the reason you spend time, just the two of you, is that he doesn’t want to introduce you to his friends - that they will give him the same kind of shit yinz guys give me about Justin?” Brian smirked and took the joint back.

“Justin is seventeen, he’s not even out of high school yet,” Michael said.

“Dave’s forty four, Michael; technically fifteen years older than you but let’s round down to fourteen, I’m only twelve years older than Justin. And let’s be honest, everyone, including you, probably thinks that out of the two of us, Justin’s the grownup,” Brian said and took another deep hit, and dumped the wings between the two other containers, and then handed the shrimp to Michael and took the zucchini himself and headed for the couch. Once seated he had to fire up the joint again before handing it to Michael and they both put their feet on the coffee table.

While they ate, their talk ranged from gossip of Babylon to Michael’s job. They avoided talk of Tracey and David, but Michael kept persisting on the Justin issue. He said, “He can’t be that good, why keep him around?”

“Did you fuck him?” Brian asked, “Then you can’t know. He’s versatile, skilled, and,” Brian trailed off and lit another joint, and after he passed it to Michael he said, “I’m more me when I’m with him. Or, I don’t know there’s more of me maybe. He gets me Mikey, he doesn’t try to change me or control me.”

“I get you,” Michael said letting out the smoke and taking another hit.

“No, you love me,” Brian said, “but even you’re waiting for me to grow up; to change. Maybe this is it, the finished product; all bastard all the time. You want another beer?”

“No, I have to be in before noon tomorrow,” Michael said, handing back the joint. “I should probably head home. I can get the bus.”

“Christ Mikey if I didn’t let Tracey stand in the cold I’m not letting you,” Brian said, putting out the joint.

He grabbed his jacket and Michael asked, “You okay to drive?”

“You’ve gotten in cars with me shit faced on dubious club drugs and one beer and a joint is what puts the fear of death into you?” Brian asked.

Brian drove Michael home and was going to head back to the loft, but turned around and headed toward Justin’s studio, after all he had a key.

+

Justin woke to Brian removing his pants and then his sweatshirt. Blinking up at him he watched Brian remove his tee shirt and jeans and crawl in next to him. “You’re here,” and after saying it Justin thought he should have tried for something a bit more intelligent.

“You’re here,” Brian said, as if that answered a question.

Brian kissed his way down his neck and Justin let his hands drink in the silky feel of Brian’s skin. “I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbled.

Brian smiled one of those rare unguarded smiles and said, “me too.”

There were slow deep probing kisses and Brian turning him over onto his side before there was slow deep thrusts of another kind. Justin wasn’t sure if he was awake or dreaming but when they were done and Brian wrapped him in his arms he felt as if he wasn’t tumbling into the darkness alone.

Justin woke cocooned in warmth with Brian spooned behind him. The room was dimly lit by the light of a street lamp outside. It seemed bright compared to the cave-like sleep chamber of the loft. The bed was smaller and the sheets less decadent, but Brian was here. He had the vague feeling of having dreamed kissing him, but his body told him he’d been fucked recently. He rolled over slowly so as not to wake Brian and took the opportunity to drink in the sight of him.

All those months terrified that he might not get this back, maybe Brian was right and he did have PTSD. It might explain why things were so hard with his mother. She’d been so supportive the last time though, against Brian but firmly in Justin’s corner. Now, was it something besides not having Debbie as a sounding board? Had he done something different? He didn’t remember feeling so frustrated with her, or having to fight for the right to live his own life. Sure, at thirty three, the ‘you’re still a child’ argument wasn’t going to make him back down even if he was in a seventeen year old body, but was that all it was?

“I can hear the gears tuning,” Brian murmured, “if you think any harder smoke will come out your ears.”

“Mom dropped by,” Justin said.

Brian snuggled closer, though god forbid he call it that, and said, “Wondered why you didn’t answer your phone. Was it bad?”

“Must have left it out by the easel; there were tears, she’s not coming to the Gala, we may have to have dinner with her and Craig sometime in January – provided he doesn’t have an aneurism when she suggests it,” Justin said.

Brian’s hand trailed down Justin’s back and lower to cup his ass he murmured, “When does winter break start?”

“Next Monday, thank God,” Justin said. “But I’m taking Friday off for the opening. So I only have three more days.”

Brian made a tired happy noise and buried his face in the crook of Justin’s neck. He’d never told him for fear of Brian might grow a beard or some other atrocity but Justin loved the feel of Brian’s morning whiskers as they brushed against his skin, his inner thighs even more than his neck. Justin purred with pleasure and then asked, “Everything okay with Michael?”

“Not sure. He was all over the place. His problems with Tracey - that not-girlfriend, I met her and David, he’s back to calling you ‘the boy wonder’” Brian said.

“Not back to, just started,” Justin sighed. “I keep having to tell myself that with Mom. That this isn’t rehashing shit we’ve already dealt with, that for her at least, it’s the first time.”

“This isn’t rehashing, he wasn’t this bad last time at least not until,” and Brian stopped, his eyes loosing focus or rather focusing on something just past the ceiling overhead.

“Not until after Ethan,” Justin said, “or rather until you took me back after Ethan, and after Hollywood, I even think when I first moved to New York a part of him thought he’d finally gotten rid of me.”

“He’s not that bad,” Brian said, “or he wasn’t.”

“You’re right,” Justin said, “It’s not some creepy movie type obsession where he wants to be you. It’s a typical only child thing. Michael never had to share, not mommy’s attention or his room or his toys. Molly and I taught each other one thing – neither of us is the center of it all. Michael never had the opportunity to learn that.”

“I’m as good as his brother, he shared everything he had with me, his home, his family,” Brian said.

Justin snorted, “He didn’t share. He acquired you, like a mint condition comic. Took you home and kept you - that didn’t feel like he was giving away anything. You’re his. He never minded you tricking - that was your superpower; he lived life vicariously through you, just like he did through Captain Astro. You always were his walking talking superhero, long before Rage.”

“I’m nobody’s hero,” Brian said.                                                                                                                        

Justin pinched him and said, “Liar. You’ve been his hero since he was fourteen and terrified of being gay or at least seen as gay by the straight world. You were mine, when I thought I’d never draw again. You were that kid’s, found in the dumpster, when you and Hunter tracked down his killer, you were the entire community’s when you took down Stockwell, Ted’s when you gave him a chance to rebuild his career after kicking meth, Lindsay’s when you gave her Gus, and Mel’s when you made sure she would always have a place in Gus’ life, Debbie’s when you had Liberty House renamed for Vic and even my Mom’s when you gave her back her son. You’re a good man Brian, flawed, human, but tenacious and true. I’m thankful it was your life I chose to become the immovable object in.”

“Does that make me your irresistible force?” Brian smirked.

Justin sighed and nuzzled closer, “Absolutely.”

 


	28. And the devil's eyes

“I can’t wait for January fourth, I’ll die by then. Why can’t they give us our scores the day of the test? This is the information age; it shouldn’t take almost a month, what’s wrong with these people,” Tracy all but threw herself against the wall of lockers as she gave a dramatic sigh and fluttered her lashes over bright blue eyes. Other than the eyes, Justin always thought Tracy kind of looked like Wednesday Addams, so when she went off on melodramatic tangents it was kind of hilarious.

Justin re-shouldered his backpack on the same side as his messenger bag after changing out his morning notes and books for his afternoon ones and slung his unencumbered arm over Tracy’s shoulder and said, “Focus on the countdown until break. If all you think about are your scores you won’t enjoy your break. The test is over, you can’t do anything now. And for Christ sake calm down before Sep smothers you or something.” So much for women being more sympathetic because September was starting to embrace the Brian Kinney ‘suck it up and deal’ philosophy of life. He guided Tracy toward the turn off to the cafeteria, Daphne and September came toward them from the other end of the corridor with Monica trailing behind. Brit had called off today, mental health day or premenstrual or just avoiding a math test, Justin hadn’t really been paying attention.

“Pizza day,” was September’s jubilant greeting.

Daphne wrinkled her nose and said, “It’s gross, I swear they just get ‘Little Caesars’.”

“Well I didn’t bring lunch so I’m stuck with it,” Justin grumbled and then asked, “Who’s holding the table?” At the blank looks from the four girls he said, “I’m holding the table.” He pulled a twenty from one of the pockets of his messenger bag, handed it to Daphne and said, “Three pieces, with pepperoni if they have it, no mushrooms, and two bottles of water, please.”

Justin sat at the table surrounded by purses and backpacks, debating the merit of pulling out a sketchbook. Chris Hobbs, who normally ate at a jock table in the inner room of the caf, strolled by and said, “Sitting at the girls’ table Taylor; when’s your sex change scheduled for?”

Justin didn’t even have to try for a bland look; his table was near the far corner of the courtyard. There was no reason to casually stroll by because of the other six tables, only one had anyone sitting at it. The one furthest from both archways right next to his was in use by four stoner kids. “Really Chrissy, you haven’t outgrown the girls are icky phase? Or are you just confused by how much time you spend thinking about my cock?”

He could almost hear Hobbs teeth grinding and at least one of the stoners giggled. Hobbs lunged and Justin leaned back in his seat and laughed and said, “Go ahead hit me. My friends will call 911 and yours will point and laugh.”

“I will,” he shouted, pulling back his fist.

“Do it, you know you want to. You want to kill me. You’re so pathetic; you think if I’m dead you’ll stop feeling what you do? Thinking all those thoughts that keep you up at night - if you can just kill every fag, will it really make you straight?” Justin hissed lowly.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Dixon was suddenly in the far archway, the one that led away from the cafeteria. Hobbs said nothing, but lowered his arm. Justin didn’t take his eyes of Hobbs because time may have given him the perspective to realize that Hobbs was just a scared confused kid whose issues were probably from his home life; however Justin still thought he was unstable and dangerous. “I asked you a question. Taylor? Hobbs?”

“Chris likes Justin, like likes, and Justin doesn’t like him and it makes Chris really angry,” Monica said standing in the other archway that lead into the caf, and then slapped her hand over her mouth and stepped back into Sep. Daphne and Tracy had already come further into the court yard, and were looking back and forth between Hobbes and Monica in confusion.

Sep grabbed Monica by the elbow, nearly upending the tray she was carrying, and hissed, “Shut up.”

“Taylor, Hobbs finish you lunches and at the next bell report to the principal’s office,” Dixson said and left.

“This is your fault,” Hobbs said.

Justin said, “Whatever you have to tell yourself, but can I point out all your friends are in the next room. The only reason you had to come out here was because you couldn’t live without my attention. Hope it was worth it.”

Tracy wove her way passed a scowling Hobbs to sit her tray down and sat down next to Justin. Daphne followed suit on Justin’s other side and started to unload his pizza in front of him. September manhandled Monica over to the seat near Tracy and then sat to her. Justin looked at Monica and asked, “Where the hell did you get that cracked up idea?”

Monica stared at him, unblinking. Justin realized she’d never said a word directly to him. She hovered around and had over the last week started talking more to the rest of the girls. But she would just look at him. He still worried something was up with her, but he was beginning to feel like a token gay zoo exhibit. He said, “Come on, Mon; use your words.”

“I,” Monica started and swallowed and looked at the each of the rest of the girls and then said, “I watch him. At first because he’s cute, kind of, but then,” and she stopped again and swallowed. This was where Brittney would normally jump in and do her talking for her, but Brittney wasn’t here. So she started again almost in a whisper, “While I was watching him, he was watching you. He says mean stuff when his friends are around, like if they catch him, he’ll be able to say its cause he doesn’t like you. But he watches you when they can’t see. He scares me.”

“Are you just afraid of what he might do or did he threaten you?” Justin asked, and when she didn’t say anything he asked, “Has he threatened any of you?” looking at each of the girls.”

“He’s called me a fag hag,” Daphne said. “But I’m not threatened by him, he’s a douche.”

“He said something about me needing a real man and called me a dyke,” September said. “I just ridiculed his cock size – like you told me to do, to any man who doesn’t appreciate me.”

“God, tell me you didn’t have sex with him?” Justin asked.

“Ew, I’m not giving it up for some high school boy, I want a man, like Brian,” she said.

Justin turned to Tracy, “What’s he done to you?”

“Nothing, but Paul and I are sort of going together; well we would be if my dad would let me date. He’s okay with groups, and you ‘cause you don’t want to impregnate me. But no solo dates until I graduate – it’s like we’re Amish. But, Paul kicked his ass last year, so I’m safe.” Tracy said.

“Why did he kick his ass,” Justin asked.

Tracy shrugged and said, “I assume it had something to do with him being a douche.”

“Mon, did he say or do anything to you to make you afraid?” Justin asked.

She shook her head and looked down at the table and sighed. For a moment Justin wondered if she were upset about being left out of Hobbs apparent persecution of his friends. Finally she spoke and said, “I see things, not like ghosts or shit like that, but things that are there and that everyone should notice but they just don’t. There’s something wrong with Chris, he’s more than just angry. He hates and it just flies out in all directions.” She waived her arms as if to show hate, flying from her head. “He’s dangerous. He’s going to hurt someone and when he does, he’s going to like it.”

Justin was shaken to the core. He wondered it Monica, the Monica who had gone through school the first time with him had been able to see that then. He hadn’t had a panic attack in almost ten years but he hadn’t felt this shaken since he stumbled on Hobbs working at Liberty House. He really had though he had gotten passed this. That time and therapy and the idea that being happy was the best revenge had carried him though to a more stable place. Justin sighed and said, “I get it. We’re both artists, we notice details; nuances that get overlooked by people who don’t really look at the world when they’re too busy living in it.”

Monica made an eep sound and blushed, “You think I’m an artist? I-” and she was none verbal again. Justin didn’t really get it, she carried a bag like his with sketch pads and the school’s art classes weren’t mandatory if you took them as far as high school you obviously had an interest. Monica swallowed or tried to, Justin opened one of his water bottles and handed it to her and she took a sip and said, “I saw you stuff – at the History Center, my dad took me. You’re really good; really, really good. I want to be good.” She was a fan. So the whole reason she stared at him and had trouble talking and all was she was a fan, not apparently some abused kid.

“Thanks, I’m glad you liked it.” Justin said and started on his pizza while trying to strategize what would happen with the principal. He wondered if he would get instructions on the acceptable way to get beat up and if so what it was.

Talk drifted away from Hobbs and to Justin’s trip and the upcoming break. The girls were making plans to Christmas shop together to which Justin responded, “Still a guy.”

“Come on, you can’t not see us, you’ll go through withdrawal,” Daphne said, leaning in a one armed hug. “Come Wednesday, they have bargain matinees and you’ll only have to shop a little bit and then well go see a movie.”

“Can’t - I told Vic I’d help out with a fundraiser, for Liberty House,” Justin said.

“What are you doing?” September asked.

Justin said, “I’m going to bake cookies, and I’m working a table for a couple hours either Friday or Saturday.”

“You don’t bake,” Daphne said.

Justin scoffed and said, “how hard can it be, I swing by the Big Q, buy a couple cookie sheets and enough of those Pillsbury tubes of chocolate chip cookie dough to make twelve dozen cookies - piece of cake.”

“I bake.” Tracy chimed in.

Daphne said, “My grandma has the best recipes, molasses crinkles and tea cakes and peanut butter blossoms.”

“I like bar cookies, you don’t have to baby sit the oven,” September said. “My mom she used to make this chocolate chip and walnut bar cookie – you cut them on a diagonal not a square; that’s important – God, I haven’t had those in years.”

“We’ll help, we can make them all, but we need a shopping list.” Tracy said.

“Chocolate sour cream drops,” Monica said suddenly. “I want to make those, but you have to ice them. Oh and the ones you roll out and cut, butter cookies – I can decorate them. We need lots of waxed paper too so they don’t stick, and to roll the dough out.”

“Okay,” Daphne said, “email me your recipes tonight, I’ll crunch the numbers and see how much of each ingredient we need to buy. You said twelve dozen of each right? Justin? Are you paying attention?”

“Are you guys taking over?” He asked.

“Yes,” they said together

“Okay,” He said, “Get your shopping list together the least I can do is pay for the ingredients since I won’t be any help with the baking.”

“Oh,” September said, “I know a guy. He has a Sam’s Club membership and a pickup truck. We can totally buy bulk and save.”

They finished up the plans and their lunch, just before the bell rang Justin headed to the administration wing and sat in the waiting area outside the principal’s office. Hobbs and Dixon weren’t there yet. And as the bell rang and the hall filled up with people Mr. Hunt, the principal, came in and saw him waiting. “Problem, Mr. Taylor?”

“No, sir. Mr. Dixon told me to come here after lunch,” Justin said.

“Did he say why?” he asked

Justin thought about it and said, “No, not really.”

“What were you doing?” he asked.

“Sitting in the enclosed courtyard, saving a lunch table for my friends,” Justin said.

Hobbs and Dixon walked in together and Dixon glared at Justin and asked, “Where were you?”

“You told me to come here after lunch,” Justin said. “Before that I was in the courtyard where you left me.”

Mr. Hunt motioned for them to join him in his office. Mr. Dixon said that he caught them fighting and he’d broken it up. Justin looked at him strangely and then looked at Hobbs who looked pale, but said nothing. He looked at Hunt who was nodding and said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you both.”

“Why,” Justin said.

“There is no fighting on school grounds, we have a zero tolerance policy,” Mr. Hunt said.

“We weren’t fighting. Hobbes didn’t lay a hand on me and I wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole,” Justin said.

Mr. Dixon said, “Are you calling me a liar?”

“If you say you saw a fight, there were multiple witnesses who would say you’re mistaken,” Justin said, deciding not to say a resounding yes and give him an out.

“The faculty are required to take action as they see fit to ensure the safety of all students,” Mr. Hunt said.

“I have personally witnessed kids shoved and hit and tripped, right in front of Mr. Dixson and none of the guys doing it to them have ever been suspended. Mostly it isn’t even acknowledged to the point of asking if the victim has been injured.” Justin said, “What’s really going on here?”

“I am unaware of any such incidents,” Mr. Hunt said.

Justin was getting tired of being loomed over, it didn’t escape his notice that while he’d been told to take a seat the two ‘adults’ had remained standing in positions of judgement. He took a breath and tried to calm his temper, channeling his inner frosty WASP he said, “Shouldn’t you be? Isn’t it your job to be aware of the safety of the student body? After Columbine I would think it would be a focus of the administration to diffuse, not escalate, conflict.”

“Is that a threat? Mr. Taylor I don’t like your attitude. I’m going to speak with your parents. This suspension could become an expulsion,” Mr. Hunt said.

“And I don’t like the blinders you wear in regard to what is going on in this school. I have done nothing to warrant a suspension, let alone an expulsion. Frankly I would like an explanation. What prompted Mr. Dixon to concoct this fantasy? There are several witnesses that saw the whole encounter – neither Hobbs nor I touched each other. Mr. Dixon jumped in and sent us here - for what? - to trump up some charges? I don’t know what this is going to accomplish besides heinously bad publicity for a private school that relies on reputation to stay in the black.” Justin said and then looked at Dixon and asked, “Are you looking to generate a lawsuit? Because I’m emancipated, I don’t call my parents when I get in trouble, I have a lawyer on speed dial; she salivates for cases like this.”

“I might have threatened to hit him, but I swear I didn’t touch him,” Hobbs said, abruptly. “I’ll take the suspension but can we please not involve my parents.”

“Mr. Hunt, maybe we should all step back and take breath. I can give you the names six of the witnesses; they can probably give you the names of the rest. Perhaps you should get some untainted versions of what happened, since, for some reason, Hobbs and I corroborating each other’s stories isn’t enough,” Justin said.

“Taylor I don’t appreciate you telling me how to do my job,” Mr. Hunt said. “The suspension stands, wait outside. I’m calling your parents.”

“You do that, given that my emancipation documents are on file with the school in addition to my verbally advising you of the fact and I will take action,” Justin said. “You want to suspend me fine, but I will need it in writing, not just the fact that I’m suspended but why, in detail. You personally have threatened me. I will be contacting a lawyer. I’ll arrange depositions taken from the witnesses and keep them on file, because if I am suddenly expelled for reasons as specious as this suspension, I want documentation of how poorly this has all been handled. It’ll be helpful when the board settles out of court,” Justin said.

Hobbes and he vacated the office and Justin pulled his cell from his messenger bag. Hobbes said, “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut, you’re making it worse.”

“I don’t know what is up with Dixon or if this is something the two of you’ve concocted between you but I am covering my ass,” Justin said while scrolling through his contacts.

Hobbes said, “There is nothing between me and Dix-”

But Justin had hit dial and held up his free hand palm out to shut Hobbes up as he said, “Hey, Mel. Is this a bad time, I may need a lawyer.” He paused and said, “No I can send in a retainer, either dropping off a check tomorrow or I have Brian’s AmEx, I want this documented, hours logged and professional.” He lowered the palm and pulled out a pen and notebook, before saying, “I can text you a list of six names they all go to St James, I have phone numbers for four of them and those four may be able to give you two other names. Right now I want depositions taken of an incident for which I’m being suspended for, a verbal confrontation that the school is labeling a fight. I need records that will hold up in court if they expel me in the future, this has the earmarks of targeted harassment. The faculty and administration are handling it oddly and I just need a record of anything if this escalates. If it’s not something you normally do can it be passed off to a competent junior associate? Great, I’ll text you and touch base later today, I’ve asked for a written advisory of why I’m being suspended and I’ll fax you it when I get back to the loft, what number is your fax?”

Justin scribbled down the fax number and said goodbye and ended the call. He then sent a text to the girls, minus Brittney advising them they would be contacted and that anyone under eighteen would need a parent to be with them when they made a statement. September texted him back with the names and numbers of all four of the other students and Justin quickly forwarded it to Mel along with the girls’ contact information.

They waited almost an hour, Justin texting the girls in reply to their questions and advising them of his suspension. He and Chris traded glares but didn’t talk. Justin was bracing himself because Jennifer hadn’t been much help the last time he’d been suspended. And given the place they were at the moment with their relationship a call to her into this would make things much worse. She was just looking for a reason to appeal his emancipation; regardless of the fact his father wouldn’t let him come home. He took out a notebook and copied Mel’s name and law firm along with her phone number and fax number on a blank piece of paper before tearing it out. He tucked the paper in the back, open fold of his messenger bag, so it would be easily accessible and started to write down his recollection of the incident.

Chris’ parents showed. His father seemed like a real piece of work, very blustery. His mother was icy and silent, tight-lipped and hard-eyed. Mr. Dixon left when Mr. Hunt came out to usher the Hobbes into his office. They were in there about a half hour and Justin was beginning to hope Mr. Hunt was not going to drag his mom into this. When they left Mr. Hunt was friendly and shaking hands with Mr. Hobbes and Chris was even paler than before as he and his mother trailed out in his father’s wake.

“Please come in, Mr. Taylor,” Mr. Hunt said. Once inside he proceeded to tell Justin what had happened, despite the fact that Justin had been there and he hadn’t been. This must be the version he gave Hobbes’ parents, he ended with a very serious ‘this is a grave matter.’

“Mr. Hunt, I was there. That’s not what happened. There was no fight. Hobbes strolled up, questioned my masculinity, poked fun at my friends and was in general, a bully. I poked back at his intelligence and pointed out he spends way too much of his time following me around and metaphorically pulling my pigtails for anyone to think he’s entirely straight. No punches, pinches, slaps or anything physical happened. We never made contact with each other. I don’t know why Mr. Dixon is lying but there were ten other people on that patio and my lawyer has all their names and contact information.” Justin said.

“This isn’t a court of law, Mr. Taylor. I have to keep order and think of the welfare of all the students. Your attitude is disruptive and confrontational, the suspension stands,” Mr. Hunt said.

“My lawyer wants that in writing along with what the reason for the suspension is, the original reason not that my protesting the suspension is disruptive,” Justin said, “you suspended me and said it could lead to permanent expulsion; that kind of threat, when my tuition’s been already paid has to have something to substantiate it with. Something more than my choosing to not rollover andacquiesce to you dominance.”

“Don’t you think you’re taking this too far, Justin,” Mr. Hunt said. “Obviously you come from a troubled home, or you wouldn’t have emancipated. This lawyer you’ve made up is not necessary. If you continue to be disruptive I’ll have no choice but to expel you. I have to think of the other students.”

“Here,” Justin handed him the sheet he’d written Mel’s contact information on, “since you find me so disruptive, you can fax the written advisory of why I’m being suspended and for how long to Ms. Marcus yourself. I’ve written down the contact information for her firm. Please do it by the end of the day so she doesn’t have to send a paralegal in to retrieve it in person,” Justin said. “I’m not being disruptive. I have rights, my education is paid for, my grades are impeccable and my SATs scores are going to be demonstrative of my academic dedication. I think the board will be surprised that you’re choosing who gets an education, not based on any of that but on the word of a homophobic teacher with anger management issues. I’ll see you in January, Mr. Hunt.”

Justin left and swung by Redstone to keep Elizabeth and Bertie in the loop. He had to field a call from Daphne while he was there to let her know what all happened since he had texted, so ended up rehashing with Daph on speaker and Bertie and Elizabeth listening. He had wanted to stop by anyway since this would be the first Sunday brunch he’s missed in months. Daphne also updated them on the fundraiser at Liberty House and Justin told them how the girls had taken over. Bertie offered to dig out Stella’s recipe for hamantaschen so Justin would have at least one of his own among all the girls’ plans.

Justin left in time so he could get his call into Mel from the loft before Brian got home.


	29. He stared at me

Brian entered the loft as Justin was at the desk on speaker phone typing the last of his version of the events on the computer to email. Mel’s voice from the speaker was discussing depositions and witness statements. Justin gave him a tired smile, while Mel droned on and Justin stood and walked over, put his arms around his neck and kissed him. “What’s going on?” Brian asked.

“I got suspended,” he said.

Brian’s scrunched his forehead and asked, “Again?”

“Similar but different, like everything else,” Justin said, “I’m just having everything reviewed and documented.”

“Justin?” Mel’s voice said.

“Sorry Mel,” Justin said, “Brian just came in and I was updating him.”

“Did you get the last part? I have one of our paralegals contacting the parents of the minors, we have the names of all the potential witnesses and will file their statements,” Mel said.

“I’d like Hobbes, Dixon and Hunt to go on record with a statement too, so they can’t rewrite history later. And can you get me a list of the board members?” Justin said. “And see if there is public record of endowments or donations to the school – I want to know who has influence and who has ultimate culpability if there is some unthinkable tragedy as a result of the toxic atmosphere. Oh is there any way to find out the salaries of the administration? The chief administrator admitted to being out of touch with any targeted aggressions in his school, that’s either a lie or willful blindness, whichever it’s not a good career move.”

“I’ll have someone look into it, but that research will be billable hours over and above your retainer,” Mel said.

Justin said, “It would be worth more than a year’s tuition to make sure that place gets cleaned up. I have friends who are going to be there when I’m gone I don’t want this crap happening to one of them. I’ll stop by with my checkbook tomorrow.”

“Will do, I’ll keep you updated,” Mel said and then ended the call.

Justin updated Brian on the incident while Brian changed, or started to change. Once Brian had hung up his suit, he started to peel off the tee shirt and pants Justin had put on after coming home. They ended up lying naked in bed speculating on Justin’s concerns about the school and if he would be able to effect any lasting changes, in between making out and tracing lazy patterns on each out with their fingertips.

“You always were a social reformer,” Brian murmured.

Justin said, “Do you think I’m instigating? By pursuing this; I’m only documenting it now but if something happens – not to me,” Justin quickly reassured Brian’s concerned look, by rushing out, “I’m being careful. But that place is the same, it’s a powder keg. I don’t want the people behind this; the ones who should be putting a stop to this; shrugging off responsibility with an ‘I was unaware there was a problem’. That should never have happened with me. And even if Hobbs hadn’t been given only a slap on the wrist, he wasn’t the one who needed to be punished. He’s a kid. People need to see when something like my bashing occurs that the atmosphere that birthed it is toxic. People should be aware when they’re trusting their children’s safety to petty, angry, tenured staff who use their positions to reinforce socially unacceptable behavior. It’s a disservice not only to the children being bullied by to the ones being used to act out the staff members prejudices against others. That’s why I wanted information on the board. I think the board is smart enough to realize that it would be less costly and better for business to make some changes without waiting for someone to attempt murder.”

“A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it,” Brian said with a sarcastic smirk that Justin knew was partly to cover the scar tissue Brian carried on his soul regarding Prom night and their long recovery. This mess was bringing it all back.

“Men in Black? Really, Brian?” Justin said, but held him tight as if to prove he was strong and here.

“I trust you. You’re not a premenstrual drama princess anymore,” Brian said. “If you think this has to be handled, I’ll back you. Verbally, financially and physically if need be.”

“Mentally I may not be the hormonal teen I was the first time through, but my body is riding the hormonal rollercoaster,” Justin said.

Brian smiled and said, “I know. I’m reaping the benefits of those hormones. So, three days off, what will we do?”

“We were planning to take Friday off anyway, that day will be grueling. And you have to work right?” Justin said.

Brian said, “I took Thursday off as well, to shop and pack and get everything in order. I have time off I was just going to carry over; I’ll email Cynthia and schedule tomorrow as a same-day vacation. We are getting tuxes fitted for the Gala on Thursday at four, I already scheduled that. And we need to find you something hot for your opening.”

“Why Mr. Kinney, are you trying to lure me into retail therapy?” Justin said.

Brian said, “I have heard you mention those leather pants to Daphne enough to know you need to buy them or a better pair. Wilson’s? How hetro.”

“Leather? You think? As club wear maybe, but to the opening?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “Trust me, you never could dress yourself. It’s San Francisco and you’re an artist. Let me take care of it, you’ll look hot.”

Brian kissed his way down Justin’s neck, his chest, stopped to briefly dip his tongue into his navel before following the almost invisible trail of fine blond hairs leading down from it. The door to the loft rolled open and Justin muttered, “I get you want someone to find you if you kick off in your sleep, but why does he never knock first, is he trying to catch us naked?”

“Brian?” Michael called over top of Justin’s question and when he didn’t get an immediate answer called again, “Brian?” as he was crossed to the sleeping area.

“In bed, naked.” Brian said.

Michael said, “It’s not even six yet.”

“Occasionally,” Justin called, “we use the bed when we’re not sleeping.”

As Michael came to the doorway and said, “Ha, Ha,” as Brian flipped the duvet over them.

“What’s up, Mikey?” Brian said.

Michael sighed and said, “I want to apologize for last night, I was upset about you telling Tracey you’re gay.”

“But he is gay,” Justin said. “Wait, what did I miss?”

“Tracey tied to fix me up with her roommate, and then her neighbor,” Brian said.

Justin grumbled, “Isn’t she little Miss. Helpful?”

“Don’t hate me ‘cause I’m beautiful.” Brian said.

“Well, we had lunch together, outside the store. After I convinced her there was nothing between you and me, she tried to fix me up with her neighbor Paul.” Michael said.

Brian snorted and asked, “How does the Doc feel about that?”

“We should go out and celebrate,” Justin said and his stomach growled.

Brian gave him a look and said, “What, Mikey getting his first fag hag?”

“Well its better than celebrating my suspension,” Justin said.

“You got suspended?” Michael asked.

“Not my fault, it’s a toxic repressive atmosphere,” Justin said. “If I can’t have sex, I want dinner, but not Valhalla, what are you are you hungry for Michael, since we’re celebrating your emergence from the closet. Are you allowed to eat Italian that your mom didn’t cook? We could hit Lidia’s. Or there’s a new place in Shadyside I heard about, it’s mostly tapas but I hear their ceviche’s good.”

“I don’t even know what that is,” Michael said, walking over to the kitchen area, apparently to give them privacy to get dressed.

“It’s a cooking method that uses acid,” Justin said.

Brian, while buttoning up his jeans asked, “where’s the good doctor? Give him a call and have him meet us.”

“I don’t know that might be a little…” Michael started and trailed of.

“Forward?” Justin asked. “Don’t look at me, I know nothing about playing hard to get. But if you don’t let him know you like him you’ll never be Mrs. Dr.” and Justin stopped and looked at Brian and asked, “what was his name?”

“Cameron,” Michael said. “And I might have just introduced him as just David on Saturday.”

So Michael called to see if David was free and the three of them took the Jeep to a dark little place called ‘Tapas and Wine’ just off Ellsworth in Shadyside. David was there already and had the large booth by the front window. The restaurant was a converted house with a deep front room there were a two booths up front and four small tables for two parallel to a bar which running the length of the left side. There were smaller more upscale dining rooms upstairs and a patio for outdoor dining not in use in this season. The front room was empty except for them perhaps because it was a weeknight or perhaps because it was a little too early or too casual for the price point of the menu, Justin wasn’t sure as he perused the menu.

Once they had a bottle of the house white and a dozen little plates scattered over the table it started to become more than obvious that David and Michael shared very few similar interests. Brian was using all his considerable skill to keep conversation going and Justin could sense this was more like a work event than a relaxing dinner for him, but Brian was trying to be supportive of Michael. It was Michael who brought up Justin’s suspension, which turned the conversation to emphasize just how much like a parent David thought, apparently because he was one. He seemed more concerned about the possibility of expulsion than whether there was something intrinsically wrong with the way the school was run.

Before the conversation became too heated Justin saw a couple emerging from upstairs and making their way through the deep front room. They saw him too and froze as if he were armed. Justin figured since he was suspended they would panic about him seeing them until after the New Year if he didn’t say anything so he said, “Niles, and is it Lana?”

“Lena,” Mrs. Orr corrected, looking pale and uncomfortable.

Justin was seated on the outside of the booth so he stood and said, “Join us; we could use your input on a debate.” He started to move the chairs of a nearby table to the end of the boot, but David stood and moved the table itself to extend the booth.

Niles, guided Mrs. Orr to one of the chairs with his hand on her back and said, “Taylor,” in greeting. “Heard about the suspension, sounds like you’re getting the shaft.”

Brian signaled the waitress for more serving plates and glasses and when she brought them, he ordered more of four of the most well received dishes and another bottle of wine. While that was happening, Justin said, “Niles Anderson, Lena Orr, this is David Cameron, Michael Novotny and Brian Kinney. So what exactly have you heard, because my sources tend to be biased in my favor?”

“That Dixon wigged out because you were hitting on his boyfriend and is looking to get you expelled,” Niles said.

Justin was speechless, first at the bizarre interpretation of it all and second that Daphne had been right, you, fire, playing, indeed; but it had to be truly unlikely that that was accurate, because Dixon hadn’t really been caught blowing Hobbes – well at least not by Justin. He could feel suppressed laughter shaking Brian even though he wasn’t doing it out loud and Michael said, “That’s not what you said happened.”

“What the actual fuck,” was what Justin said when he regained the power of speech, “Seriously? Or are you just saying that to see if my head explodes?”

“The official story is that Mr. Dixon broke up a fight between you and Chris Hobbes in the courtyard and you mouthed off to Mr. Hunt.” Mrs. Orr said, “So what did happen, Justin?”

“It was like every other day. Well, pizza day, you know how September gets. But I was left guarding the purses and backpacks. Since it’s colder the courtyard isn’t used much and it was just me and the stoners, er,” and Justin paused remembering this was a teacher, but she looked amused, “another table of four students. Hobbes wandered in to take his daily poke at my masculinity or lack there off and I hit back with his closeted obsession for me, given that the only reason he would have come out there, other than to score weed, was because he secretly lusts after me.”

David topped up Lena’s glass and consolidated some of the near empty plates so the empties could be stacked and there would be more room for the coming food.

“Daily?” Brian said, “You haven’t mentioned this why?”

“He’s all talk,” Justin said, waving dismissively.

“We both know that’s not true,” Brian said, and Michael looked uncomfortable at the seriousness of Brian’s tone. Niles had declined wine but picked at some of the remaining tapas.

“I’m always safe,” Justin said, “he threatens, I goad him, usually while reminding him of what acting on his raging self-hatred will lose for him. And he walks away.”

“He didn’t touch you?” Brian asked.

“No, he made as if to but never threw a punch. We both told Mr. Hunt that no physical contact occurred. Hunt refused to talk to witnesses he just took Dixon’s word over all ten other people. He said, Dixon was obligated under the schools zero tolerance policy – which is a farce. Dixon has walked by kids laying on the ground after they’ve been tripped down stairs or shoved into walls. Back me up Niles, he’s walked in on Hobbes shoving and slapping Niles in our Calc class or taking his stuff before class starts and all he said is ‘everyone take you seats’. Dixon passively encourages violence and vandalism,” Justin said.

Lena looked extremely concerned when Niles reluctantly nodded along while nervously nibbling.

“That’s what I meant earlier, David. How much does a student, any student, impact the school environment? What did you leave after a four year stint at your high school besides a couple trophies in a glass case? The administration and faculty are the ones there, year after year, who set the tone and control the experience for all the students,” Justin said. “Dixon had more issues than Rolling Stone. Maybe he was a bully himself; maybe this is the only power he has in his life. I’ve only witnessed four years, but I’ll bet he does this with every class. He singles out the weak and he selects his golden boys, the ones he sees as strong; the ones he identifies with - or wants to at least. He subtly reinforces bad behavior. Hobbes just had the misfortune to be chosen for our class. Dixon turns a blind eye to any of his ‘special’ boys breaking rules, as long as they do it by going after Dixon’s targets - the fags: the effeminate kids, the artistic ones, the smart kids, the non-athletic ones.”

“Then why did he pull you both in for suspension?” Michael asked.

Niles and Justin shared a look and Niles looked at Lena who seemed not to know the answer either. Niles said, lowly as if there were someone there beside the bartender and occasional wait staff who might over hear, “There’s a rumor going round that Hobbes and Dixon had sex, and got caught but no one knows who caught them.”

“So,” David asked, “he might have done it to throw suspicion off the affair? He wants to save his job and his reputation.”

“And people say fags are gossips,” Brian said.

“Are there any other rumors, like that about students and,” Lena trailed off.

“No,” Justin said, firmly. “If there were, the girls would have told me. We would squash anything we could. But Pittsburgh? Small town really; sex you can get away with, but dating? Dangerous.”

Lena and Niles exchanged a speaking look and nodded thanks to him. Michael said, “What do you mean? I don’t get it?”

Lena said stiffly, “What Justin neglected to mention when he introduced me, Michael, was that I’m his English teacher.”

David’s eyes widened but he showed no other reaction, Michael was open mouthed but speechless, and Brian said, “Way to go, Niles. I blew my gym teacher when I was fourteen.”

“Really, Brian,” Justin said with an attempted elbow but Brian caught it.

“Pot, kettle, lover,” Brian said. “Lena’s closer to his age than I am to yours; or David is to Mikey’s.”

“Yes but only you and I are the talk of the school, Brian,” Lena said, looking slightly less uncomfortable. “And only I’ll lose my job if we’re caught.”

Michael chuckled and asked, “So what *do* they say about Brian.”

Niles looked pained and said, “Ah that he’s hung like a stallion and has a tongue that can make angels weep.” Brian was smug and preening again.

“Rumors do grow, and are rarely accurate,” Michael said, while David chuckled.

“Daphne,” Justin said and would have hit his head on the table if it hadn’t been covered in plates.

Brian, of course smirked, before saying, “Did you forget to pinky swear her to silence.”

“I can’t believe you talk about that stuff with your friends,” Michael asked.

Justin said, “You talk about that stuff with your friends. Besides, Daphne’s my best friend, like you with Brian – we have history.”

David gave Michael a curious look and Michael blushed.

Lena and Niles didn’t stay much longer and David gave Michael a ride home. It was getting to late to make it worth walking up to the shopping district on Walnut since the stores would be closed or closing. But given that was where the ‘Banana Republic’ was and the dozens of specialty boutiques that Brian preferred were, Justin figured that they would be back tomorrow. The gallery Lindsay had eventually worked at was on this street. And without consulting he and Brian had strolled shoulder to shoulder down a few blocks checking out the storefronts and galleries before doubling back to the car.

On their way they stepped to the side to let two women who were laughing and talking pass on the sidewalk. “Oh, Brian, hi,” Tracey said. “This is my roommate Susan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Brian said, reflexively and then added to Justin, “Justin, this is Mikey’s friend Tracey, from work.”

Justin makes the appropriate greeting and small talk before Susan invited them to join them for a drink. Brian said, “We’re together.”

“And I’ll get carded,” Justin added.

“We just met some friends for dinner, but morning comes early so we’re heading home.” Brian said.

Susan said, “Oh. You’re together, like more than roommates.”

Justin grinned and said, “Something like that.”

After they each went their way Justin asked, “You think they’re-?”

“Straight,” Brian said.

“You can’t be sure,” Justin said, “we’re everywhere.”

“My gaydar is impeccable,” Brian said.

“Feel like going out?” Brian asked as they drove back toward the loft.

Justin hummed and said, “feeling lazy, and like I should rest up if you’re planning a shopping day. You’re like freaking Napoleon when you get going; we’re not going to the outlets are we?”

“Did we suddenly become postmenopausal women? I don’t do outlets,” Brian said. “Trust me the stores we’re hitting won’t be packed with Christmas shoppers, except for Saks but that can’t be helped – you can’t keep wearing underwear from the Big Q, its embarrassing.”

Justin snorted, “Great, you’re probably going to outfit me from a sex emporium. You know sex shops have Christmas’ rushes too.”

“I know a leather specialty shop, there won’t be a breeder in sight,” Brian said. “You trust me right?”

He looked like Peter Pan with that gleam of mischief in his eye, and while Justin trusted him with his life, he really did not want chainmail underwear or something designed to lift and separate any part of him. But he smiled and said, “Sure I trust you, just like you trust me. So, for everything you pick out for me, I get to pick out something for you, right?”

“As long as it’s from the same store, I’m not wearing any of that crap from ‘The Gap’ that you buy,” Brian said.


	30. And I felt a change

Brian blinked awake and rolled over. He was alone in bed but could hear Justin breathing. If the louvers were open he’d be able to see him doing calisthenics in the living room. That was new. Not that Justin had never worked out, but the pushups and squats had become a religion. As if Justin felt he could get his old body back from sheer determination.

Brian over the years hadn’t even really acknowledged all the little aches in his joints or the decline in his vision until he woke up pain free and clear sighted on the floor of the fertility clinic. Having his thirty year old body, and both balls, back had been fantastic. Sure at the time, he was shorter of breath since he hadn’t given up smoking yet and he didn’t have the muscle mass he’d built up as he approached forty but those were things he could get back.

He’d laughed out loud in the bathroom of the clinic. He remember how stressed he had been about his coming thirtieth birthday the first time. Having reached both forty and forty five to look in the mirror and see himself just approaching his physical prime was exhilarating. He supposed if he’d lived to sixty, he’d have felt the same way about forty. In the reboot advantages he had won the lottery. Poor Justin, no wonder he was frustrated by his appearance. He hadn’t seemed this young the first time. But then seventeen to forty five was painfully young, even with the extra workout he’d looked almost as young as Gus that first night. Also, being the father of a fifteen year old gave Brian a whole new perspective into Mother Taylor’s coming of age alongside Justin. The longer hair helped, Justin’s face at least looked more like he had at nineteen or twenty than when he was seventeen the first time. Brian knew Justin’s constant eating was more than just any teenaged boy’s high metabolism; Justin was desperately trying to match his body to his mind, or his soul if you will.

There was a look in Justin’s eyes that had never been there the first time. Doubt or a self-consciousness that belied how self-assured he presented himself. Most of the time Justin forgot he was seventeen again; he moved and talked and pushed the way he always had. He was a ten year New Yorker who could cuss out traffic in multiple languages that he’d just learned the bad words in. But other times, when they were alone and naked there was a look as if he wanted to cover himself; hide the lack of definition and sparse body hair by turning out the lights. The first time he was seventeen all Brian had to do was fuck him to make him feel like a man, and the most desirable man around if it was Brian choosing him. Justin had taken that to heart and presented himself to the world as if he was. Hell, he’d won the king of Babylon contest at seventeen, all ballsy and determined, swaggering on to stage.

Brian rolled out of bed and padded over to the fridge to swig some guava juice. He really should take vacation days more often just to laze around. Leaving the carton on the counter he wandered over to the office and removed his camera from one of the drawers. Justin was concentrating on push-ups and must have been counting silently to himself as he went up and down. He hadn’t acknowledged Brian yet and may not have notice him crossing to the kitchen but probably heard the door to the fridge open.

Brian checked that the camera card was clear and then snapped a few pictures.

“What are you doing,” Justin said and rolled over. He didn’t start doing sit ups so Brian thought maybe he’d done those already.

“This is a camera, it takes pic-” Brian started sarcastically.

Justin snorted, “You’re a riot. Why are you taking pictures of me?”

“Why do you draw me?” Brian defected.

Justin didn’t say anything and seemed startled, so Brian added, “Take off your clothes.”

“You can’t be serious,” Justin said.

Brian smirked and said, “Take off your clothes.”

“Will you let me take pictures?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “It was my idea, get naked and on the Corbusier.”

“I want to take pictures of you,” Justin said.

Brian said, “Me first, and then, we’ll negotiate.”

And so it began, Brian spent an hour changing lighting and moving Justin from the recliner to the bed to the shower. They lay naked, back to front in bed, looking over the shots in the view screen. Yeah Justin was no longer the thirty something stud he’d been; the last time they’d lazed around a New York hotel room but he was still Justin. He was still luminous in a way no other person had ever been, lighting all the dark corners of Brian’s life. And Brian wished he had words to tell him but instead hoped he could see for himself.

Brian felt Justin sigh and let go of the camera so it was in Justin’s hands so Brian could tighten his arms around him. Justin said, “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. It means a lot, you’ve always made me feel,” he paused as if searching for words, “good about myself. Proud. Hot. But we have to wipe this.”

“Why,” Brian asked.

Justin twisted and Brian shifted so Justin’s head was beside his and they could see eye to eye. Justin said, “Because technically, even though I’m emancipated, this is kiddy porn.”

“Fuck,” Brian said, “I forget. I just look at you and,” Brian looked into those eyes, that could see past every wall he had ever thrown up and said, “I see everything, all those years – I’d have never made it without you.”

Justin’s smile was blinding and he said, “Then it’s a date, you, me, my eighteenth birthday, hell we can use whatever sex toys I get gifted with as props and you can take all the dirty pictures you want.”

“Now that’s my kind of date,” Brian said, and then planted a firm slap to Justin’s back side and added, “Shower sex and shopping.”

+

Breakfast was brunch and had been crepes in South Oakland; Justin’s sweet and Brian’s savory. So far, Justin had been able get Brian to keep to their deal that had him picking one for Brian for everything he bought for Justin. Brian’s leather guy was much better than the mass market appeal of a chain store. Brian had found a similar shade of burgundy in a much thinner, butter-soft leather that looked amazing on Justin’s ass. Justin had chosen for Brian a pair of black leather pants that would have people throwing themselves at his feet to worship him, not that they didn’t already.

Eventually they made it to the downtown area, parked and when to Saks Fifth Avenue and Justin knew that game was over. Brian loaded the salesman down like a pack mule. The attendant of the men’s department had zoned in on Brian as soon as he entered the store, knew Brian by name and was overly fawning. Apparently this was one of Brian’s enablers. Brian just kept handing things to him, jock straps, underwear, tank tops, tee shirts Brian had rejected most of the jeans but there were two pair, one dark blue and the other black. So far everything was sized for Justin; the one for one exchange in picking stuff out was at an end because Justin had seen Brian’s closet and it couldn’t hold this much.

“Where are we going to put all this?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “We can start by trashing your current wardrobe, scruffy. And you have three empty closets at your studio; you can keep your hobo look there.”

“I don’t dress like a hobo,” Justin squawked, and the attendant looked pointedly at his cargo pants.

Brian glared at the attendant and said, “Take that to a dressing room and come back for more.”

“We’ve been shopping forever,” Justin said.

Brian said, “You want fed, don’t you?”

“I want to stop by Mel’s firm and drop off a check first, but after that yeah, any ideas?” Justin said.

Brian thought, “I want to hit Monroeville Mall so the Fish Grotto?”

“Lobster bisque and sea bass, yeah, for that I’ll watch you cut a swath through the grooming products at Macy’s and torment the staff at Jos A. Banks.”

The next hour involved Brian ruthlessly having him try on everything and purging about seventy five percent. They had brought Justin’s new leather pants with them to find something that went with them which ended up being a thin black silk knit pullover with three quarters sleeves and a Chinese symbol printed in matching burgundy.

“How do we know this doesn’t say ‘idiot’ on it or something worse,” Justin asked.

Brian sighed and said, “If you buy it without over-intellectualizing it, we can go payoff your shyster and I’ll take you for food.”

“Sold,” Justin said.

Brian waived over the attendant, pointed to the smaller pile and said, “Those,” before handing him a credit card.

They ditched the bags in Brian’s jeep in the underground parking garage as USX tower and took the T down to Gateway Center and crossed Market Square into PPG Place. They may have been off today but everyone else was working and parking was a bitch everywhere so they weren’t moving the car until they were leaving downtown. PPG Place was a modern ode to Pittsburgh Plate Glass a vast court yard surrounded by the six large glass castles and a variety of shops and eateries. Justin looked around and Brian said, “Next year.”

“Reading my mind now?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “I came down here for lunch and almost asked someone why the rink wasn’t up. Then I remembered Gus was just learning to walk the first year it was up. Lindsay told me about taking him down here to watch the skaters and have lunch with Mel.”

Mel’s firm was housed in PPG2 and Justin met briefly with a paralegal to go over the information he’d requested, and write one check for the retainer and one for the first thirty hours of research. He signed the statement he had emailed Mel before Brian got home the night before detailing the incident and the paralegal notarized his signature. He hoped this was all his own paranoia but figured for his own peace of mind and if it kept Brian from shopping for Kevlar and a helmet; it was cheap at twice the cost.

They left without seeing Mel who was with a client and ambled up the steep streets of downtown, stopping in stores like the National Record Mart that had long closed or would again soon. They cut through the Woolworths that had exits on both Forbes and Fifth. All of the little mom and pop shops, like the Candyrama and the wig shop lining Fifth Avenue would be closed and demolished when PNC3 was built. They stopped in Betsy Ann’s Chocolates and bought gelt for Bertie, for when the grandkids visited, and a gift box of truffles for Elizabeth as they were planning to stop in briefly on the way back from the mall.

The wind was picking up by the time they reached the flat level area of Grant Street. Grant was a wide straight connection, river to river, channeling the biting winds straight across. They ducked into One Mellon Place and took the shortcut underground through the T station into the basement of USX to access the elevator down into the parking garage. Traffic during the day wasn’t bad so they were at the mall in about ten minutes, parking was an entirely different matter as the Christmas shopping season was in full swing.

“Fuck, they haven’t remodeled yet,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Well don’t park anywhere near where the sinkholes were.”

“Do you remember where they were?” he asked.

Justin looked around and said, “Weren’t most out front, where they built the new Barnes and Noble; try around back.”

The Grotto was upscale and pricey so it wasn’t swarming with the Christmas shoppers. Brian was pretty good at gaging when Justin had reached his shopping limits and after their meal only forced about another hour of shopping on him. After that, they were back on the parkway, cutting through Regent Square and Squirrel Hill and over to Shadyside to stop in at Redstone, drop off the chocolate and remind Brian’s fan base that they would miss Brunch on Sunday.

After lamenting Brian’s shopaholic tendencies and entertaining his grandmother with stories of how Brian had his own staff at most of the stores, Justin mentioned him mom’s concerns regarding his traveling to his grandmother. He neglected to do so before having been distracted by his suspension. Brian made sure Elizabeth knew what hotel they were staying at if she couldn’t reach their cells for any reason. She promised to keep an eye on Jennifer and an ear to the ground regarding Justin’s concerns for his parents’ marriage. Before they left Justin got Stella’s recipe for hamantaschen from Bertie.

They were back to the loft by four and before they took a nap to prep for a night out, Justin emailed the recipe to Daphne. After waking and dressing for dancing, they got to Woody’s first. Justin ordered an Arnold Palmer and the bartender laughed at him and put it in a Tom Collins glass. They waited against the bar until Michael came in and together they got a table.

“So Mikey, you get any?” Brian asked.

Michael smiled and said he’d never tell. Justin figured a. he had and b. he’d hold out until Ted and Emmett got there and then spill the beans. Michael then said David was having a dinner party and he was meeting David’s friends. Given the pointed look at Brian that accompanied that statement, Justin figured Brian had been giving him shit about something. Of course shortly after that Michael started lamenting that David was the one who had paid both at their dinner at the LaMont and the other night when they joined Brian and Justin. Also he seemed really nervous about what David’s friends might think of him, as if somehow their opinion was more valid than his own; Justin didn’t really get that.

Justin kicked Brian and got a strange look and then Brian bought a clue and said, “If you want to take him somewhere, I have tickets to the Cancer Society Gala on the 29th, black tie, very classy; should be right up Doctor Dave’s alley.”

“You’ll want to rent a tux, and given that’s New Year’s weekend you’ll want to pick one out and reserve it as soon as possible,” Justin said.

“Come with me Saturday? I haven’t done that since the prom,” Michael said.

Brian said, “No can do, Mikey. I’m out of town this weekend, leaving Friday morning early.”

“Where are you going?” Michael asked

“San Francisco,” Brian said, “I’ll be back by Monday.”

Michael wasn’t happy and made grumbling noises. When he went to the bathroom Justin asked Brian, “so who should we palm Mom and Dad’s tickets off to. We need to give people time and if we wait until we get back it might be too late to get a good tux, not many of our circle own them. Are you thinking Em and Ted?”

“Good god, no,” Brian shuddered. “I don’t think Elizabeth is ready for Emmett, besides, do you really want Bertie and her to be the only straight people at the table?”

“The only straight person we know whose coming to mind is Deb and that’s just a world of no, my grandmother would have a stroke at her language alone,” Justin said.

“I’d ask Cynthia,” Brian said, “but she and the guy she’s seeing are going out of town for New Year’s like Todd and the shiksa and that taps me for people I’d be willing to socialize with outside of work.”

“I know a straight guy, besides Todd. Chris DeLuca, my contract guy, he’s relatively hot too so he should have somebody he can haul around on his arm, I’ll call him tomorrow,” Justin said. “Do we need a backup in case he can’t make it?”

“Mikey’s ex-girlfriend? I mean if we’re mining for hetros who are out of high school or you know not dating high schoolers,” Brian suggested.

Ted and Emmett arrived and Michael did start spilling details on Doctor Dave coming up for a nightcap, so to speak. Justin was bored by hearing it, Michael was too much like Brian’s brother for his sex life to ever sound salacious and while he really hadn’t known the Doc, the first time he’d seemed insanely old, and this time compared to a forty five year old Brian Kinney, well there was no comparison. He let his hand drop under the table to Brian’s thigh, trailed it up and cupped him in his palm. Brian continued to pretend to pay attention to Michael but spread his legs for easier access. While no one at their table seemed the wiser, Justin noticed that the clack of balls had stopped behind them and that whoever was playing had stopped to watch Brian get a hand job through his jeans.

When Emmett finished his drink he suggested they all move to Babylon, Brian said, “We’ll catch up,” and grabbing Justin’s arm practically dragged him to the bathroom.

On their way Justin heard Michael huff, “They couldn’t wait and use the backroom?”

Babylon was Babylon; glitter, lights, music and wall-to-wall men. They danced and held up the bar while gossiping; and Ted found Blake passed out on the bathroom floor. Emmett went with him to the ER and Michael cut out early since he worked the next day. Brian and Justin were heading back to their car; it was parked closer to Woody’s since that was where they met up and were surprised when they rounded a corner to come face-to-face with Craig Taylor.

“Dad?” Justin said. “Has someone died? Are Mom and Molly alright?”

Craig glared at Brian and looked like he really would have run him over with a car if he could. Then he said to Justin, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“So you went cursing, instead of picking up a phone?” Brian asked.

“Alone,” Craig said giving Brian the stink-eye.

“That’s not happening,” Brian said and glanced around. The closest establishments were all too gay friendly to be truly neutral territory but it was too cold to stand on the street.

Justin said, “’Primantis’ is a couple blocks down, they’ll be open.”

“And you’re hungry,” Brian muttered.

Craig looked decidedly unhappy but nodded and crossed the street to where Justin saw his car. Brian and he went up further to the parking lot passed the diner. Once in Brian’s jeep they made their way through the throng of club goers blocking the street to ‘Primantis’. It was a hole in the wall which had started decades ago feeding truckers and warehouse workers who came in all night long before any clubs had been in the Strip. Back then barges had unloaded goods from the river only to be shipped out twenty four hours a day to all the over the country by truck. Their sandwiches were a local legend, thin sliced grilled beef, with coleslaw and fries piled on top of thick white bread. Originally designed so truckers could get the whole meal to go and eat them while driving.

While Brian went to the counter to order, Justin got a table. Brian was sneering in distaste at what he said was the grossest sandwich ever, despite him having got one for Justin while sucking on the straw to his iced tea. When Craig finally walked in and came over, Brian got up taking his drink and said, “I’ll give you two some privacy. But I’m going to be over by the door and if you lay a hand on him I will beat you with a chair.”

Craig took a moment from being disgruntled to look surprised. They both had thrown on jackets in the car and it was obvious Brian was a little more intimidating than his father expected a fag to be. From where he sat, Justin could see the entrance and Brian stood near it and leaned against the wall. Various genders of the club crowd in to refuel checked him out as they came in and left. Justin asked, “So what did you need to talk about?”

“I heard you were suspended,” Craig said.

Justin asked, “Where did you hear that?”

“Are you saying you weren’t?” Craig asked.

“No, I was, but I really want to know how you heard. If it was the family grapevine, like Elizabeth told Jennifer who told you it’s one thing but did the school call you?” Justin asked and took a bite of his sandwich.

“Of course,” Craig said.

Justin chewed and swallowed and said “Why? They have the documents on file. You don’t want a gay son; you don’t have a gay son. Why drag you into something that isn’t your problem.”

“I paid your tuition. You’re throwing your education away,” Craig said

Justin asked “How am I doing that?”

“This life style out all night parting,” Craig said.

“I’m suspended I don’t have school tomorrow, if I did I wouldn’t be out,” Justin said.

“You were never in trouble when you lived in my house-” Craig started.

Justin cut in, “You threw me out of your house. And I was in trouble all the time. As long as I took it like a good little fag and knew my place no one would call you. The minute I refuse to drop to my knees and suck someone’s dick they call you to put me in my place. I don’t need you to take care of this, although you may be asked to make a statement of what occurred.”

“What do you mean?” Craig asked.

Justin said, “A lawyer or paralegal will call and ask you what happened. Tell the truth, when you were contacted, by who and what they told you and asked you to do about it. They’ll write up what you said and someone will be around to have you read it and if it’s what happened, sign it.”

“What have you gotten yourself into?” Craig said.

Justin huffed and rolled his eyes and said, “I go to school with a lot of guys like you, Dad. They hate fags. For years I’ve been pushed and shoved and tormented. The school looks the other way. One of them has been after me all year, but I’ve been striking back, but since I’m a skinny artist and not a bulky football player I use words and my smarts, you’ve always said I have a smart mouth. On a day like any other Hobbes came up to me at lunch for the express purpose of trying to make little Justin cry. Only I’m a hell of a lot tougher then some jock that never had to fight just to put one foot in front of the other. You may think I’m a great big queen but we pansies have to have a lot bigger balls than you straight guys. No one ever tries to kill you just for breathing.”

“So you hit him,” Craig said.

Justin scoffed, “Hell no, I’m smarter than him. I called him a closet case and told him the whole school knows that his constant harassment of me is because he has a case of unrequited lust that makes him so horny he can’t see straight.”

“So he hit you?” Craig asked.

Justin said, “No. He’s an idiot but I get the feeling he’s terrified of his parents. He was frothing at the mouth mad and he pulled back his arm as if he was going to but he hasn’t got the balls to do something like that when there are witnesses. If Chris Hobbes ever kills me, Dad, it’ll come from behind and in the dark.”

And Justin was glad Brian was too far away to hear their conversation because that would have been too close to home for him. Brian didn’t really believe in therapy other than a drink with Alex at Woody’s and still woke on occasion to dreams that Justin hadn’t survived that night.

“Mr. Hunt said you were fighting,” Craig said.

Justin sighed and said, “Mr. Hunt was in the teacher’s lounge having lunch. He wasn’t there. There were ten students and Mr. Dixon. The six of the students, me and Hobbes included were there for the whole verbal sparring. Four came in time to witness Mr. Dixon order us to the office without telling us why. Even though Hobbes and I told the same story, we were suspended. When I suggested Mr. Hunt question the other eight people who witnessed it to get a less biased view he told me he didn’t like being told how to do his job and threated to expel me. That’s why I’ve retained counsel and I’m having all witness statements logged and ready. This feels trumped up.”

“Why would they do that,” Craig said.

Justin slurped his ice tea and was kind of mournful that he’d only gotten a couple bites of his sandwich in but sighed and said, “Dad? Really? You have to ask? You can’t stand to look at me. You’ve known me my whole life and have decided you would rather have me wiped from your life, than in it as a fag. You don’t think there are others like you? If you had an employee at one of your stores and you found out he was gay, you’d fire him right? I know guys who go to elaborate lengths to keep their employers from finding out they’re queer. Well, maybe Mr. Hunt and you have a lot in common. He’s trying to fire me. Only he doesn’t employ me. I’m a student and a good student at that. My grades are higher than ever, I have five more months and I’m out of there and if he expels me for reasons as sketchy as this suspension I’ll sue him personally and the school and anyone that put him in power.”

“Is your grandmother paying for that?” Craig asked looking pained.

Justin said, “I am. The lithographs are doing well. Mom might have mentioned I’m going to the opening in San Francisco. If sales keep up we’ll go into a second printing sometime in the beginning of the year. Once my SAT scores are out in January I’ll have an acceptance in CMU, I already have a preapproval.”

“What about Dartmouth?” Craig said.

Justin said, “CMU has an excellent business program and I am planning to take business classes along with art. I don’t want to be away for four years. Grandmother might not be alive that long, I mean she’s healthy but,” and Justin trailed off, “I have a network here for emotional support, friends, family, a good line on an internship for the business aspects and my art is taking off, I should be able to remain financially sound even if I do drain my savings on a law suit. And if I need anything, I have Brian.”

“I don’t like him,” Craig said.

Justin smiled and asked, “Because he’s a fag or because he’s not the kind of fag who’s scared of angry hetro men?”

“He’s too old for you he made you think you’re gay-” Craig started.

Justin cut in, “normally I’d say that if any man could turn a straight guy gay it would be Brian, but I was gay and out and out of *your* house before I met him. And he didn’t know how old I was when *I* picked him up. And I told him I wasn’t leaving him alone, that I was going to stalk him and be a millstone around his neck. Other than clubbing me to death he was out of luck, if he’d have gotten a restraining order, like he threatened to do, I would have violated it.”

Craig turned in his seat to look at Brian, Brian glared back and smirked.

“I’ll be eighteen in a couple months and you really don’t need the publicity and if you think I’m being unreasonable over St. James’ homophobic atmosphere you have no idea how vengeful I can be. If anything happens to Brian, I will beggar myself destroying everyone involved,” Justin said.

“Are you threatening me?” Craig asked.

Justin said with deadly seriousness, “No Dad, I’m just being honest.”


	31. Time meant nothing

Brian, the inglorious bastard, dragged Justin to breakfast at the diner the next morning; over loud protests that the purpose of taking a day off meant sleeping in. He then dragged him to his gym and signed him up for a membership. Given they had the same address there was a couples discount and given the neighborhood no one cared if they were roommates or lovers. They hadn’t belonged to the same gym in years; granted for ten years of it they’d each lived in separate cities, but the gym had always been Brian’s place to hang with the guys and hook up. And Justin found the machines boring; he preferred a class, like spinning, yoga or kickboxing. However in the last ten months he had developed a way to get in the zone with the monotonous calisthenics and figured some weight training couldn’t go amiss if he wanted to stop looking like a kid.

Brian dropped Justin at his studio and went to run errands. Justin was sorting through his supplies and remembered he wanted to call Chris Deluca. He called and told his receptionist it was personal and left his name and number. Instead of working on the details on the one he’d started of the hurricane club he grabbed a four by six canvas and set it up landscape style to begin the block in a scene from The Musician’s Club of Musicians Union Local 471. Justin wanted the focus to be three very different musicians on the stage: a famous white headliner from the downtown concert halls sweating bullets trying to keep up; a young man in a milkman’s uniform putting him through his paces; and Tommy Turrentine looking on with his trumpet at the ready to jump in and wow them all.

He wanted the light coming through the window of the second floor of the union hall to show a muted white that gave indication a late morning glow as if the milkman had just finished his rounds and the headliner had come in with the two showgirls lounging in the foreground with their pumps kicked off and their tired feet propped up while they smoked and listed to the sweetest sound this side of Harlem.

He had mixed some colors to start blocking off the areas where he wanted each of the elements to be on the canvas when his phone rang. He saw it was Chris’ office and answered, “Hello. Hey, Chris thanks for getting back to me. No, no problem. Listen I called to invite you to a charity gala on the 29th, it’s at the William Penn for the American Cancer Society and Brian has a table and we’d love to have you and a date join us. Well, you’ve met Mel and Lindsay, and my grandmother will be there and do you know Albert Kaufmann? You’re not? Well why not? You’re a very attractive man I’d think that ladies would be throwing themselves at you, you do prefer ladies don’t you? Well, it never hurts to check. The reason I’m asked what you prefer is if you’re not terrified of the prospect of a gay man setting you up, I know someone who might be interested in attending as your date. I’m mean worst case scenario you’re both bored to tears but still, it’s a good networking opportunity if nothing else. Let me see if I can get in touch with her and find out if she’s free. I’ll call you back by the end of the day, okay? Great, talk to you then.”

Justin scrolled though his contacts, and hesitated on whether he should call Michael or Brian. He’d prefer to call the Big Q himself but he didn’t know Tracey’s last name. He called Michael but it rolled to voice mail so he left a message asking Tracey’s last name and number before he called Brian.

“Yes, dear,” Brian greeted.

Justin huffed and said “Do you know Tracey’s last name.

“Chris couldn’t make it?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “Chris is between girlfriends and is concerned that this is too much like a grownup prom and will sent the wrong message to either of the girls he’s currently dating.”

“Straight people are so weird,” Brian said and added, “I’m lucky I know her name is Tracey, call Mikey.”

“I did, it rolled to voice mail,” Justin said, “You said you’d be out that way, did you need to pick anything up at the Big Q?”

“What in God’s name would I want in the Big Q,” he asked and after the dead silence in response said, “You want me to cruise the Q for a straight chick? Must you trash my good name?”

“Or we could invite Emmett and Ted,” Justin said.

“One walk through if I don’t see her we’re fixing the complicated straight man up with one of the girls from Redstone,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Oh my God Brian, why didn’t I think of that we could-”

“I’m turning in to the fucking parking lot and no, stop dragging old people into my life, they’re just going to die,” Brian said.

“Aw are you getting attached?” Justin asked, teasingly.

Brian growled out, “Shut up.”

Justin heard the engine shut off and the door slam and Brian’s long ground eating strides. It was so like Brian not to disconnect the call. Soon he heard the PA system announce a special short time promotion on wrapping paper. It then occurred to Justin that he had sent Brian Kinney to a discount chain in the height of Christmas madness. If he had ever had any doubt that this man loved him this proved it more than words or romantic gestures or even crashing his prom. That didn’t however mean Brian wouldn’t take fierce vengeance for it if not distracted by many blow jobs.

“Tracey,” Brian’s voice was muffled and he must have removed the phone from his ear.

Tracey’s voice was about the same so Justin pictured Brian holding he phone in this hand and his hand was probably at his side, “Oh, Brian. Are you looking for Michael? He’s not in until one.”

“No, I was looking for you, I would have called but I didn’t catch your last name,” Brian said.

Tracey said, “It’s Grabowski, what did you need?”

“I wanted to invite you to a formal gala on the 29th at the William Penn,” he said. “It’s a blind date, but there’ll be dinner, dancing and entertainment, he’s a lawyer if that helps.”

“Why me?” She asked.

“Justin didn’t say, but I think it has to do with you being single, female and not a dyke,” Brian said, “Chris is Justin’s lawyer. You’ll be at our table, Mikey’ll be there so will Justin’s grandmother and her – I have no idea what you call it when you’re that age, sweetheart? He’s on oxygen and in a wheelchair, that’s a slapstick routine I’ll give a pass on.”

Justin facepalmed and wished he’d told Brian to just hand the phone to her so he could do the asking. But he heard her laugh and then heard another woman’s voice say, “Tracey dear, can you help me? Oh, who’s this?”

“Marley, this is Brian. I’ll come over; can you just give us a minute?” Tracey said.

Brian must have nodded, or completely dismissed the other employee. It was quiet or no talking because the background noise was still present and then Tracey said, “God, she’ll have it over the whole store that I’ve dumped Michael for you. How formal?”

“Black tie. Floor length gowns? I’m not really up on women’s fashions,” Brian said.

Tracey said, “What’s this Chris like?”

“Hot, if you like them tall and dark; I’d do him,” Brian said, and then added. “But straight.”

She said, “My last blind date was in high school. We went to Kennywood and he barf on me.”

“I make no promises,” Brian said.

She laughed and said, “Why the hell not, let me give you my number.”

And Brian left, as the sound of the store faded and his footsteps picked up to as he strode across the parking lot his voice became clear as he must have been holding the phone to his ear again; he said, “Sunshine, you owe me-”

“so very many blow jobs,” Justin finished.

Brian texted Tracey’s number and Justin started the game of phone tag with Chris again. Michael then returned his call while Justin was on the line with Chris’ office and left Justin a message with Tracey’s last name and asking why Justin wanted it but said he didn’t have her phone number. In Justin’s opinion Michael was crap at being a fake boyfriend.

Later Justin had got a good start on the painting by the time Brian came in the door. Chris called back while they were leaving for the tailor’s. It always amazed Justin that Brian, who couldn’t show up on time to save his life anywhere else, never kept his tailor waiting. So Justin took the call while Brian drove and Justin sold Chris on the idea that he would know some of the people at the table and Tracey would know some of them and that it should be a fun evening.

Sergi, Brian’s tailor, was at least sixty, at most five foot five, had the hands of a surgeon and a staff made up of two of his sons.

“I look like a waiter,” Justin said, tugging on the too long sleeves of the tux.

Brian nodded, and said, “Sergi, he’s right we want Bond not… Jesus I can’t think of any famous maitre ds.”

Brian, of course, looked like he was ready for a spread in GQ. He was monochromatic in black; the jacket was being pinned by Sergi’s youngest son to taper to his slim waist and make sure the jacket was hemmed to hit just right. “Try it with a blue shirt, something that matches his eyes.”

“Brian its black tie, not the prom,” Justin said.

“I said shirt, not tie and cummerbund.” Brian said, and then directed to Sergi, “That’s good; let me see it with the black vest he has on now and with a vest that matches that shirt color. And show me an assortment of studs.”

“I figured I’d just borrow a set of yours,” Justin said and then stopped. This wasn’t forty five year old Brian who had four tuxes and nearly a dozen sets of studs. Over the years as the head of Kinnetiks, Brian had become a leader in the Pittsburgh philanthropic scene, not that he enjoyed it but it had been good for business. And given Justin’s agent Giselle had booked so many networking events to help launch Justin’s career, Brian had even become a commonly photographed member of New York’s supporters of the arts crowd; possibly because at any age Brian was the most photogenic man in the room. But this Brian, standing on the raised platform in front of a three way mirror, still worked for someone else and likely this would be one of the first tuxes he purchased.

Brian read this all with a look but said for the benefit of their audience, “I only have one set. And they’d trash the monochromatic look. Sergi, bring me some onyx, rounded squares with no metal frame showing if you have it.”

It took an hour but Brian picked out a single breasted black jacket with peaked collar; a black turned down collar shirt with black suspenders and cummerbund and a pointed tie for himself with rectangular onyx studs and cufflinks which blended into the look. He chose for, or talked Justin into, a classic single breasted black tux with a shawl collar; a crisp white French cuffed shirt with winged collar and a vivid blue waist coat almost entirely hidden when his jacket was buttoned, accompanied by white suspenders, a straight end black tie and square domed mother of pearl with silver edging studs and cufflinks. At least they wouldn’t look like matching grooms on a wedding cake.

After they left the fitting, with the studs and of all things sock garters, they picked up sushi. Apparently other than going to the Big Q, Brian had spent some of his hours away from Justin packing. Three hanging garment bags and one large suit case were near the door, and an open carryon bag sat near them for last minute toiletries and charges and other things.

“Eager to leave?” Justin said.

Brian put the take out on the kitchen counter and pulled out a couple bottles of water and said, “You know what a hassle it is getting out to the airport and getting to the gate. For a six AM flight, we have to be out of here by four thirty at the latest.”

“We driving and taking a shuttle?” Justin said, getting the low sodium soy from the fridge and a small shallow saucer for it.

Brian scoffed while plating the sushi and pulling out chop sticks, “Hired a car and driver, it takes less time to get from here to the airport than from airport parking to the gate. It’ll be here at four thirty.”

Justin groaned, “You’re a sadist.”

They ate off the coffee table while sitting on the floor with their backs to the couch and watching ‘Giant’ for the uncountablist time. Afterwards, addition to packing for Justin, Brian had already picked out the clothes they would travel in and they were hanging ready for the morning, or for four o’clock which was when Brian set the alarm for so they could shave and shower before they left. Although Justin was thinking of doing neither and maybe getting ten minutes more sleep. Falling asleep was easy given their habit of napping before going out and Brian’s athletic way of telling Justin’s body it was time for bed. Before Justin knew it the loft was quiet and warm and dark with nothing but the sound of Brian’s even breathing.


	32. Never would again.

Justin stirred groggily and tried to bury his face deeper into Brian’s chest. If the fact Brian was wearing a shirt wasn’t a big enough clue that something was wrong a woman’s voice saying, “I’m sorry sir, you’ll have to bring your seats into the upright position” was a disturbing give away.

He felt Brian’s arm tighten briefly across his back as Brian murmured a sleepy, “Thank you.”

They were flying first class, as if Brian would fold his long legs into economy. When they’d boarded, before sunrise, Brian had asked for pillows and a blanket. Once in the air Brian had, much to the flight staff’s amusement lifted the arm between their seats, reclined and promptly been back to sleep. Brian, of course, had flown for work since their reset into the past. Justin had forgotten what it was like to fly before September 11th. The mall at Pittsburgh International had been closed at the early hour they boarded with only a few breakfast places open to cater to the red eyes. But to think that in this time anyone could drive out and shop there, when in less than a year only people with boarding passes would be able to get that far into the airport. And US Air still had its main hub here once that had moved a direct flight to San Francisco probably wouldn’t be obtainable even with Brian Kinney’s ‘just throw money at it’ all-purpose solution. Justin had thought they would only doze until the meal service but had no recollection of that happening. God, he needed coffee.

“Sir, you have to put on your seatbelt, we’ll be landing,” said the nice older lady who kind of reminded him of Daphne’s grandmother.

Brian handed her their pillows and the blanket and said, “He can’t understand you, he hasn’t had coffee. I’ll take care of him, you take care of this.” Brian then reached over Justin and pushed something on the arm of his seat and the back sprung forward. Leaving Justin blinking stupidly in surprise Brian said to him, “Come on; sit up. We’ll be on the ground soon and I’ll buy you all the coffee.”

“Did we sleep the whole way?” Justin asked.

Brian tugged the seat belt that Justin was apparently sitting on out from under him and as he buckled it for him and said, “Only way to travel,” Brian then buckled his own.

Justin put his head on Brian’s shoulder and said, “Wake me when we can get off… the plane, when we can get off the plane.”

There was no sound but Justin could feel the chuckle vibrate though Brian’s body. Brian had left the arm between them up and so far none of the flight staff had told them to lower it. The next thing he knew Brian was unbuckling the belt across his lap and murmuring, “Come on, coffee’s waiting.”

There was a Starbucks almost at the foot of the exit ramp. Armed with a double expresso Justin was ready to face the world and willing to forgive Brian’s snickers into his latte. Brian hailed an attendant and the next thing Justin knew they were riding in a glorified golf cart trailing a flatbed, enjoying their coffee as they whizzed past the other passengers who were slogging toward the luggage pickup. While there were times Justin’s ‘we have money but we don’t talk about it or show it’ upbringing clashed with Brian’s ‘do it for me that’s what I pay you for’ philosophy, now wasn’t one of them.

They waited while seated on the cart as the valet took their claim receipts and went to retrieve their luggage. Brian got off the cart briefly to verify that all their luggage made it and then their ride whizzed past the car rental places and out large automatic doors onto the sidewalk that surrounded the pickup zone. They passed a line of taxis and pulled up next to a long black limousine. The driver opened the door and had them installed in the back seat while the valet loaded the luggage into the trunk.

“Really Brian?” Justin asked while they were alone in the limo.

Brian looked smug and said, “We’re celebrating.”

Justin slid closer to him. The plush leather interior had the scent of new car and Justin wondered if the limo company had a perfume that smelled like that to drive out other odors. He also wondered how long the drive would be and if the driver had one of those privacy panels that could be raised. “What’s the limo equivalent of the mile high club?” Justin murmured while biting Brian’s ear lobe.

Brian kissed him, one hand sliding up Justin’s inner thigh to cup his junk. Justin spread his legs to give him better access and the driver’s door opened, and a young blonde woman wearing a chauffeur’s cap got in and said, “The Palace Hotel.” Without waiting for confirmation she said, “With current traffic conditions we should arrive in approximately thirty minutes, if you need anything there’s a phone in the arm panel,” and raised the partition between the front seat and back of the limo.

So Justin blew Brian in the limo, it was almost like she wanted him to. As they were curled together afterward her voice came over a small speaker, which instantly had Justin worried that she had heard everything, asking, “Mr. Kinney, we’re approaching the entrance of the hotel, let me know when you’d like the door locks released.” There was such a thing as service being too good.

Brian lifted the handset and said, “We’re ready now, thank you.”

As soon as the car stopped the doors on both sides opened and Justin and Brian disembarked, each from their own sides of the car. Given it was so early Justin wasn’t expecting the staff to be so attentive. They each had a carry-on bag, with Justin it was his messenger bag and with Brian it was a rectangular black leather bag that had a shoulder strap and held a surprising amount of crap, quite necessary given the amount of grooming products Brian apparently needed to travel.

The concierge stored their luggage, Brian after removing a binder to be kept in the hotel safe, left his carryon but Justin would have felt lost without his messenger so held on to it. While Brian was arranging that, Justin stopped one of the bell boys and asked if there was a diner nearby, one where you could get a milkshake and breakfast. The bellhop pulled a pamphlet out of a display for local attractions and used the map on the back to show where he and his friends met before work and after the bars.

Justin knew Brian was walking up to him by the way the bellhop’s eyes glazed over as he looked over Justin’s shoulder. Brian said, “Check-in’s normally not until three but the previous occupant just checked out, they said the room will be made up by noon.”

“I’m hungry,” Justin said, ignoring the muttered ‘of course you are’, “Bill says there’s a diner within walking distance.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Brian deadpanned.

Justin turned to him and said, “By the time we eat, the stores will be opening. I know you booked this place because it’s in walking distance of the shopping district.”

“And the MOMA,” he said, “Still tired?”

“Brian I slept for five hours,” Justin said. “I’m never going to be able to take a nap. And 1 AM here is 4 AM at home so I’ll be nodding off – unless you brought poppers?”

“Someone was worried about a heart attack and had me give them up,” Brian said.

Justin’s phone rang, the number was a San Francisco area code and unknown to him so he answered, “Hello, yes this is he. Yes, I am. Well it’s early, we haven’t had breakfast. Oh! No I don’t think.” Brian was watching him getting more amused and if the woman did not let him finish any sentences Justin was going to disconnect the call. “I really think we. Yes. That’s not necessary.” Justin took the phone away as she talked over him and said, “Do you mind if we go to the MOMA now.”

“I don’t,” Brian said, “but if you don’t get fed you might bite someone.”

Justin made a face and put the phone to his ear and said, “Send the car; we’re at The Palace, yes. No, no special dietary needs. Thank you.” He turned to Brian and said, “I don’t know if she is really good at her job or really bad. You notice I’m doing what she wanted me to; however I am contemplating killing her, so, hard to tell.”

Justin wished he had had a chance to change and maybe shower. Brian looked impeccable in his dark dress pants, ankle boots and matching belt and a long sleeved, rolled to the elbow Armani shirt that managed to look crisp and white despite having Justin sleep on it for five hours. The valet came into the lobby minutes later and said, “Mr. Taylor, your car is here.”

“Thank you,” he said and added to Brian, “I told her we could walk its less than half a mile.”

“Should be easier to get into the museum before it opens this way,” Brian said.

The museum was only a couple blocks away and with rush hour traffic it would probably have been faster to walk, but the car was able to pull into a private entrance, probably used for loading and unloading exhibits and drop them off inside.

Chandra Siegel, was an Indian woman of an indescribable age probably over forty but younger than sixty. She had one silver streak in her hair on the left side that looked natural and softened her appearance. She wasn’t much shorter then Justin and wore laced up boots and a long dark divided riding style skirt with a deep red blouse with a high flared collar, which showed off an elaborate pounded gold necklace. Her English was impeccable and she spoke very, very fast. Justin missed most of her introductions of the two men in drab ill-fitted suits, who followed her and the scurrying workers prepping the exhibit. He hoped Brian had caught some of it.

After a brief tour of the portion of the facility where his work was, and he liked how they’d spaced the paintings and interspersed Stella’s memorabilia and the research comprised by the History Center on the events depicted, she ushered them up to a mezzanine to overlook the staff scurrying below; while she stopped to detail from above where they planned to have the caterers set up. While they were looking down over the railing at the main lobby, Justin’s stomach gave a growl that he was surprised hadn’t echoed back off the walls. He wanted to die; thankfully she was too polite to mention it.

Brian however said, “Can I get some coffee? We were about to have breakfast when you called and given the time zones we just crossed we’re really closer to lunch.”

“Of course,” Chandra said, “Please follow me.” She led them to the Caffe Museo, dining area where some tables were pushed together with carafes labeled, tea, coffee, decaf and chai and held platters of pastries along with quiche tarts and breakfast paninis.

While Justin was filling a plate, Brian got them both coffee and if they were alone Justin would have given Brian hell for pouring decaf. Maybe Justin wasn’t hiding how irritated he was at being railroaded into this unscheduled meeting before nine in the morning. Once they were seated Chandra passed out itineraries to everyone but Brian and started to rapidly go over everything; including who each of the interviews were with and why. Justin placed the sheet between Brian and him and began to shovel in food with dogged determination. Brian got up during the lecture and brought the carafe of decaf, along with the chai Chandra was drinking. He refilled Justin’s mug and went back to picking at a quiche tart.

The itineraries had everyone on it, not just where and when Justin was expected to do something or meet with someone. Brian borrowed a highlighter from one of the men in suits and began to mark the printed schedule. Chandra wrapped up with a quick, “Any questions?”

The suits were already shuffling their clipboards and papers together when Brian said, “This meeting at three to coordinated the schedule, can we assume this was it and it’s already occurred and cross it off?”

“Things may change and Mr. Taylor should be advised and updated,” she said.

“You can do that when he arrives dressed for the event two hours before you open your doors, you say here to be here at six the Gala starts at eight, surely any update can be squeezed in there. I also see the interview you have scheduled at two is with the same woman’s studies doctorate candidate as is meeting you in half an hour, is there any way she can interview Justin now, while he’s here and you later?” Brian asked.

“I’m sorry, but are you his personal assistant? This is highly irregular,” she said.

“Yes it is, if you had advised us of how over-programed you had Mr. Taylor we could have come a few days early to acclimate to the time zone changes. Mr. Taylor was boarding a plane at 3 AM your time and he had to be awake and at the airport to pre-board long before that. Your itinerary has him awake and hopefully able to speak intelligently all day into the night. We need to block some time - after noon but before five - for a nap or he’s going to crash when you need him the most, when he’s supposed to be schmoozing your patrons and donors.”

Chandra asked Justin, “He speaks for you?”

“Only when my mouth is full,” Justin said, after swallowing and wiping his mouth on a napkin. “If I can’t switch this meeting with you, can she be put off until tomorrow? It looks like that’s the only thing that has to be moved. I can see her tomorrow afternoon if we can’t do it now.”

+

Chandra Siegel was good at her job. She worked very hard on her MBA and had come from the field of hospitality management to direct the traveling exhibits that rotated thought the MOMA. She could politely and firmly corral temperamental artists, making sure they were where they needed to be and keeping them from imposing their creative muse on the union workers who took care of moving and lighting exhibits. Artists, if they were not kept busy got under foot, meddled in things outside their expertise such as where a painting should be hung or how they should be lit, and in general made more work for everyone.

She had done her research on Justin Taylor. She had been advised his work showed passion and an eye for seeing deeply into his subjects. She didn’t have a background in art but could certainly see the beauty of his paintings and expected a very good turn-out for this traveling exhibition. People liked to see up and coming artists, to put bids on their work in hopes of buying a future masterpiece and the word ‘burlesque’ alone should drive in traffic to the museum. She had been worried when she heard he hadn’t attended the Chicago show. It showed a lack of commitment not only to his career but to the places that showcased his work. Visitors were all well and good but the museum survived on donor dollars, and donors liked to rub elbows with the artists and to feel they were a part of the art world.

Her first impression of him when he stepped from the car was he was younger than he had looked in the newspaper article and prettier. She had spoken with the woman who acted as his agent. Ms. Peterson had contacted her to request passes be sent to the director of guest services of the top five hotels in the area. Chandra had done so without even billing the artist, such people would be more likely to recommend the show to their clients if they came and if they did not come they would pass the tickets on to someone likely to purchase something while attending. The museum shop would be open during the Gala and orders for lithographs of not only Taylor’s work but most of the paintings on display in the rest of the museum could be placed.

The man who had come with Taylor was handsome and savvy. While Taylor blinked sleepily and nodded as she talked, that man’s discerning eye took in everything. She couldn’t shake the feeling he was going to start critiquing how she was performing her job. She was shocked when he abruptly ended the tour with a request for coffee. That had seemed out of place. Until they got to area they’d put out a buffet for visitors and it became obvious he’d not made the request for himself.

While the Mr. Taylor ate like it might be taken away at any minute, his companion sipped his coffee and idly nibbled on an egg tart while taking notes and highlighting the schedule. At least he was paying attention. Taylor had introduced him as only Brian, but then Taylor didn’t seem completely awake. The agent had been female and this Brian didn’t act like any sort of assistant. She was used to the artists being difficult but this man was the one to start editing her schedule as soon as she’d finished.

When she questioned Taylor he made it clear that he agreed and gave her a choice, if she wanted him to be interviewed outside the two hours before the Gala it would be now or tomorrow. The unspoken message was it could be neither. She checked her schedule. It would not take much adjustment to meet with Ms. Weber at the time she was scheduled for Taylor so she asked them to excuse her while she checked with Ms. Weber.

+

Justin went back to try some of the pastries while Ms. Siegel went off to look for the grad student, Quinn Weber according to the overly complicated printed itinerary. Justin was glad she was a Woman’s Studies candidate and not any one of the arts. He wasn’t really into meta-ing his work. It always felt masturbatory. Having pseudo-intellectuals trying to make a psychological analysis about the accessories he’d put on a dressing table was like having his teeth drilled. He remembered long ago telling Ethan ‘I'm not antisocial, I just can't stand people’ that really hadn’t changed. While he was up Justin was reaching for the remaining carafe of real coffee only to hear Brian say, “You will not be able to sleep no matter how hard I fuck you if you have any more coffee.”

Justin sighed and grabbed three of the tiny half pint milk containers and came back to the table. He worked his way through the two cherry cheese danishies and by the time he finished the milk no one had come. He checked the schedule and Brian’s wrist watch before asking, “Bored?”

“I knew what to expect. This isn’t my first rodeo either,” Brian said. Justin remembered Giselle his old agent had preferred Brian come to Justin’s opening, she always said that Justin was more focused and more on when Brian was there. If Giselle could only see, the MOMA – all those years slogging a way in New York and here he was, straight from the ‘Burgh.

Justin said, “Shame Giselle couldn’t see this. All her work and I never got her to a MOMA.” And the look Brian gave him said he understood. Brian was probably the only one who would ever understand. What it was like to miss people you’d never met; to miss people who were right in front of you but who may never be who they once became. Like Michael, like his mother, like so many people who’d touched their lives over the years and now never may or may and yet never be the same.

Justin cleared off the refuse from the table and tidied up. Brian was fighting a smile and probably holding back a bus boy comment. Justin asked, “How the hell do you look so good when you were on the same cramped six hour plane ride as me?”

Brian grinned and stood and Justin realized it was because Chandra had returned with Ms. Weber. She looked like someone dressed as a Women’s Study major for costume party: light brown hair pulled up in a messy bun; Annie Hall vest and tie; pleated pants that made her ass look huge and yes, Birkenstocks.

“Mr. Taylor, thank you for taking time to meet with me.” She said, stepping over Chandra’s introduction.

Justin smiled big and said, “Thank you for taking an interest in my work,” he then addressed Chandra, “Is here where you wanted us to do this, or will we be in the way?”

Chandra ushered them back to a room where it looked like planning happened. It had a small conference table, with a tray of glasses and two pitchers of water, and multiple white boards on the walls. She excused herself and left the three of them to the interview.

Quinn, as Ms. Weber asked to be called, had a preprinted list of questions and a small handheld recorder with microcassettes, which had Justin wondering even with the reset if he’d stepped further back in time than he thought. Really, people used those still? Quinn began firing questions off her list, asking about Justin’s views on women, his views on pornography and the sex trade; and if marketing a burlesque tribute as a women’s history exhibit was a contrived move to both promote it and defend it from potential critics.

Justin hoped she wasn’t expecting a pithy sound bite in response to all that. This had the earmarks of an already prewritten hatchet job designed to support her already formed and quite probably written opinion. He opened his mouth to go off on her and Brian caught his eye and smiled. Okay, after fifteen years Brian did not need to hear Justin say the words out loud, to know that he was going to flay this granola-breathed, pseudo-liberal, feminazi alive for daring to attack Stella and the girls. Each and every one of them was more woman than some professional student living off research grants while she contemplated the philosophical, ethical and moral quandaries of her cobweb encrusted vagina.

“Miss. Weber,” Brian said, his professional bland face set in calculated curiosity, “have you had a chance to peruse the exhibit? Since you don’t need your hands free to take notes, I’m sure Mr. Taylor won’t mind conducting the interview while you gain experience in the subject matter. I’m sure it will give added veracity to your work if you’ve actually seen it.”

And somehow, Brian had them up and walking toward the traveling exhibit area. She was holding her recorder out to catch Justin’s words and Justin revised his opinion that she was a dyke because she didn’t even correct Brian about the Miss. verses Ms. slip up obviously blinded by Brian’s, er, charm.

While they walked to and into the exhibit, Justin blathered on, not really listening to what he was saying because this had all been rote before the end of the opening in Pittsburgh, “As an artist, I think its important to love your subject matter. Not necessarily like it or approve of it, but you have to have passion and you have to love something before the allusive line between a technically perfect exercise or study in technique really becomes art.” He gestured to the show piece, Stella, the full sized portrait that he gifted to Bertie, “I love this woman. God sent her into my life when I desperately needed someone; a hero; a role model. I wish you could have met her, Quinn. She embraced life and she lived with every fiber of her being. It wasn’t easy; and it wasn’t pretty, not all of it. But at the end of her life she had no regrets. At a time that I was exerting my independence, embracing a sexuality that my own parents found offensive, here was a strong, loving person who encouraged me to find out who I was, what I wanted and to go for it, with no excuses; no regrets; no apologies.”

“She was thirteen when she started her career. Shortly after her bat mitzvah her parents found that she was sexually active with a gentile boy and tossed her out. It wasn’t an uncommon story then, if you dated outside your race or were outed with a same sex relationship you could be tossed out on your own. It happens today but we try to have social services and emancipation of minors so that people that young have somewhere to turn, but back then they didn’t exist. She picked herself up, found a way to support herself and made friends and enjoyed life.” Justin said.

“It’s easy, even politically expedience to be a feminist at the dawn of the 21st Century. But fifty or sixty years ago, in Pittsburgh, a largely blue collar city, a woman choosing to make her own way, have a career, pay her own rent, date whom she pleased, listen to Jazz at mixed race clubs or date more than one man were shunned; shunned for doing things you and most women today take for granted.” He said.

They walked the perimeter of the wing housing the traveling exhibits, and moved to some of the freestanding walls in the center of the room where smaller paintings and some of the framed memorabilia were displayed. Quinn said, “Is this one special, I see it has an unavailable tag?”

Justin smiled and said, “This is Ida Greene, she stripped under the name July Summer.”

“Mel’s grandmother?” Brian asked taking a closer look at the painting and saying, “she looks like her, only less dyke-like.”

Justin laughed and said, “Well Ida never rode a Harley in a Pride parade, but she married an Auschwitz survivor and helped put him through school and raised a family with him.” Justin said to Quinn, “Sorry, Melanie’s one of the mothers of Brian’s son, when the tribute stops touring this is going to Mel; she’s Ida’s family.”

As they circled back, on the other side of the wide entrance to the wing the large dressing room painting was centered and took up the remaining wall on that side. They stopped before it and looking up at the crowd of vibrant young women on canvas, Justin said, “I think your question regarding pornography and the sex trade through me because by today’s standards most television commercials show more tits and ass than the peeler shows of the ‘50s. And while some of these girls may have, dated advantageously, the showgirls and the strippers had much more control of their own lives and choices than their counterparts, either in the brothels or the marital beds.”

“It doesn’t take much moral fortitude to denounce human trafficking. But to group these pioneers of women’s rights, who fought a daily battle against the expectations of men and the society of their time in with the dregs of humanity would not only be a disservice to them, but one to you as well.” Justin said.

They wrapped up the interview with Justin suggesting Quinn see if Chandra could arrange a private viewing of the documentary which would be looping in the media room tonight. They made their good byes to Chandra, declining the use of the car to return to their hotel. She said she would have it waiting for them at their hotel at six sharp. That fact that she cast a wary eye at Brian when she said this, made Justin wonder if she had been advised of Brian’s penchant to be late.

Since it was around ten when they left instead of heading for the shopping district on the other side of the Palace they meandered through any open galleries they found among the plethora surrounding the MOMA. Justin dragged Brian into both the Contemporary Jewish Museum and the Cartoon Art Museum before they arrived back to the Palace just before one.

Their luggage was waiting in their room. Justin final tossed off his clothes and crawled into the large California king. Brian, after tinkering with their travel alarm and making a call to the front desk for a five o’clock wake up, removed his clothes and hung them in the armoire and then began to open luggage and hanging clothes to de-wrinkle. He sorted out their attire for tonight as Justin watched him move confidently naked around their suite; taking toiletries to the bathroom and sorting out shoes and other accessories.

Finally having enough of Brian’s need to both control clutter and be prepared Justin said, “Come let me worship you.”

Wordlessly Brian turned and smiled before sliding under the covers and on top of him to pin Justin down and kiss him breathless. In no time at all they were wrapped around each other, hard and panting when Brian murmured, “I thought you wanted to sleep.”

“I thought you were going to fuck me unconscious,” Justin said.

Brian knelt up and reached for a condom from the ones he’d placed on the bedside table and said, “I can do that.”


	33. Let's do the Time Warp again.

Brian had paired a gray Armani suit with a burgundy shirt, tie and pocket swatch which matched the leather pants Justin was wearing. While Brian was fussing with his hair, and thank God he didn’t wear makeup or they would never get him out of the bathroom, Justin perused his finished look in the full length mirror in the door of the armoire. There was no way he could fit a wallet in these pants. He had one of the designer jock straps Brian had approved on under them but he still felt like he’d been poured into a body condom. Brian had suggested he go commando, as if it were de rigueur under leather. Justin had tried it and pointed out he didn’t want strangers being able to tell if he was cut or uncut from newspaper photos of his pants.

He’d also worried that the crewneck knit shirt had emphasized how slim and underdeveloped his body had transformed to or maybe in this time had always been. Brian had pointed out that there were men his age who dieted to look like Justin did naturally and to just dress for the body he had, enjoy it now; and when and how Justin’s body may change they would shop for that in the future. Brian was taking Justin being physically seventeen better than Justin was. Justin was contemplating getting another countdown calendar to put on the loft refrigeration because eighteen couldn’t come soon enough. Not that he’d been real buff at eighteen.

While he was woolgathering; Brian, who looked good rolling out of bed in the morning so all the fussing was ridiculous, came out of the bathroom and stood behind him. Brian slipped a thick plan silver necklace around Justin’s neck and fastened it. Then he looked critically in the mirror at both of them and after a moment, pulled the old shell bracelet that Justin hadn’t seen in years from somewhere, and put it on Justin’s left wrist next to the one he’d been wearing since he bought it with Daphne before the last opening. Brian looked again, nodded and said, “Now, you’re perfect. Stop stressing. You want a drink before we go? That cheap champaign they always serve gives you a headache and upsets your stomach.”

Justin joined Brian for a short bourbon while they watched the clock as it approached six. “I wasn’t planning to take my wallet; do you think I’ll need ID?” Justin asked.

“Give it to me,” Brian said. “If anything happens ID, credit card and hotel swipe cards are in my inner breast pocket. All our paperwork is in the hotel safe, you have both home and work for Cynthia in your phone right?”

“Brian, we’re going to an art show, not war,” Justin said. “And I was going to leave my phone in the room.”

Brian held his hand out for it and shrugged, “If anything happens I don’t want you without resources or having to call Craig.”

“I’d call Elizabeth first, fuck, I’d call Daphne before I called Craig,” Justin said.

They went down to the lobby and the car was waiting. They made the short trip back to the MOMA despite heavy traffic and exited the car in the same loading entrance as before. Chandra was there, followed by a young male assistant with a clip board dogging her steps. She ushered them quickly in to be introduced to more staff of the museum. She rapidly moved them through the lobby and the bustling preparations of the caterers setting up coat check areas, a valet station, buffet tables and bars. They ended up in the same planning/conference room as earlier, however in addition to the pitchers of water there were cheese and crackers, shrimp and a fruit platter.

Chandra tried to hand Justin an updated schedule, which again included everyone including the staff and the board trustees who were attending – seven in total - and where they would be and when. Brian took the schedule from Chandra and wordlessly held out a hand to the assistant who blinked in surprise and handed him a highlighter. Brian quickly sorted through all the pages and determined what applied to them. Justin plated some shrimp and cocktail sauce along with some cheese cubes.

“So, if I’m reading this right,” Brian said, interrupting Chandra as she detailed information already printed on the schedule about each trustee’s background how they’d been selected for the board and why they were here tonight, “you want Justin to work a reception line from the time the doors open to nine o’clock and then mingle. Before the doors open you want to do three consecutive interviews with local papers and then a Q & A session and photo op, for the press immediately following the interviews and then a private session with the trustees at eleven o’clock. Is that right?”

“Yes, we really need to start now we may have to reschedule one of the interviews as it took longer for the car to arrive than expected,” Chandra said.

Brian said, “Are all the reporters available now?”

“They’re waiting, I’ll bring them in to speak with you and you must stick to a strict time limit.” Chandra explained.

“What about the trustees, are any here now?” Brian asked.

Chandra said, “Of course but they are in their own planning sessions,”

“That’s good. Is the exhibit clear? Can we meet them all there at the same time; I think Ms. Weber found it easier to ask questions with the art available for reference?” Brian said.

Chandra said, “The lobby is the only place with activity the exhibit can be accessed, but they are expecting individual interviews and this is not how we do things.”

“Well, like you said, we are pressed for time, have all three reporters meet Mr. Taylor in the exhibit room, for concurrent interviews and questions - and do let any trustees who are free know their more than welcome to listen in, this will give them all more time than meeting separately and if someone needs something more in depth we’ll see what else we can schedule.” Brian said.

Justin popped another shrimp in his mouth and watched while Brian once again took over. Brian had had an employee like Chandra before he died or came back here. He was wildly efficient but because Harold had needed all the details he insisted on presenting everything to Brian like that. Brian had finally cured him of the need to share, but it had taken six months of excessive threats and yelling and Ted and Cynthia’s constant intervention, but eventually Harold had learned to pare down his information to the salient points.

“Ready?” Brian asked Justin.

Justin smiled and said, “Ready.”

They stood and started to leave the conference room Chandra stood and followed and said, “I don’t know if they’ll agree to this-”

Brian cut her off and said, “You’re not asking them to agree to anything, Ms. Siegel. You’re accommodating each of them with better access to information and more of Mr. Taylor’s time in a manner in keeping with your well-planned schedule. We’ll be waiting in the exhibit.”

At that Brian and Justin peeled off toward the exhibit leaving Chandra to round up the reporters. As they entered the traveling exhibit wing, Justin said, “Anything in the book she gave you indicate if that room we’ve were using is where we retreat to refuel throughout the evening? Will it be in use or can we slip off back there to, recharge?”

“I don’t think the lovely Chandra recharges the same way we do,” Brian said with a smirk.

“I fucking hate these things, I always have,” Justin said.

Brian smiled and said, “Try not to call anyone a cunt.”

The reporters were ushered in by Chandra and two women who must have been trustee, trailed behind. Justin greeted each of them. Only one seemed to have already written his article and merely was attempting to get Justin to say something that could be slotted in. The other two seemed genuinely curious about the creative process and what brought the subject matter to his attention. Much like he had with Quinn Weber earlier he shared his history with Mrs. Kaufmann and how she had inspired him, tying her coming of age to his own. He genuinely had won over the two women reporters; one had even teared up when he talked about Stella and the girls being groundbreakers in the modern women’s movement.

The male reporter though seemed bound and determined to push the morality or immorality of strippers’ lifestyles. He pointed out that since most of the girls had been under eighteen at the time, that the memorabilia and paintings should fall under child pornography restrictions.

“Mr. Baxter, was it?” Justin said. “If you intend to go through history branding saints and sinners of the people who lived in eras before our own, you’re not going to find many who measure up. I dare say there is not a person, who if they go back a few generations in their own family will find all children conceived by what the modern era terms adults. You are right, no thirteen year old should have to strip to keep a roof over her head and food on the table, but Stella didn’t choose it over school or a different job. Most of these girls would have loved to work in an office but at that time they wouldn’t have been hired and if they had they wouldn’t have been paid enough to live on, after all real women found a man to take care of them. Sadly in the late 40s and early 50s most parents weren’t telling their daughters to study for SATs or pick out a career, they told them they had to find someone who could support them and then it was the wife’s job to keep her husband happy.”

Justin directed the groups’ attention to the big dressing room painting and said, “See this skinny redhead with the neck tray for candy and cigarettes? Her name was Helen Bricke, nice Irish-Catholic girl born in a small Western Pennsylvania mining town, her mother died when she was in third grade so she had to quit school and keep house for the family, two younger sisters, two older brothers and a younger brother. She did the cooking and housework back when laundry was a back breaking event that could take days. She married at fourteen to a handsome hard-drinking boy who took her out west to St. Louis to make their fortune. That didn’t work out so well he got in with a bad crowd, which sounded from Helen’s accounting like organized crime or a gang. By sixteen she had a toddler and a husband with a heavy hand who made the mistake of hitting her son, so she did something nice Catholic girls of her era didn’t do. She picked up her kid, hopped a train and got her ass back home.”

Justin swallowed, Brian was standing against the wall behind the crowed Brian met his eyes and tipped his head as if to say go on. Justin said, “I had a tough time wrapping my head around the significates of that. Divorce is no longer a whispered word. We don’t shun people who get divorced, sometimes we start betting before the rice is swept up how long a marriage will last. But in this era, for Helen, a devote Catholic; she believed that she would go to hell for getting a divorce. She was willing to burn for all eternity to keep her child safe. Helen didn’t run to the loose life of the burlesque halls, she started out going to her one of her sisters. She left her kid to live with her sister’s family and worked as a live in maid for a wealth family. She would take the train out from the city every Sunday to take her kid to mass in her home town. She was good at cleaning, but not so good at lying and when they found out she had a kid, they fired her. There wasn’t much difference between a divorcee and an unwed mother in this era. They were both shunned; and respectable people, while they might pity them, didn’t want them around.”

“I guess some people just expect feminists to be wearing comfortable shoes and eschewing bras and make up. I’m not saying it’s easy to sit around a college campus while your parents are paying the bills, loudly proclaiming how differently you would do things if you had been alive in this era. But these women paid their own bills and instead of attacking each other for not being as strongly committed to the fight for women’s rights or deriding how each individual used her own freedom, they supported each other, watched each other’s kids; shared troubles and triumphs,” Justin said. “So when I say they’re role models, I don’t necessarily mean they’re role models for modern feminists. They’re my role models. Their role models for every young adult who has to make hard choices about what we’re willing to live with and how hard we are each willing to fight to be our own person; it’s easier to do what is expected than to choose your own path.”

“Coming of age isn’t a number, it’s not a diploma or any of the discernable milestones like a job or a baby; it’s examining what you believe or what you think you believe and its being accountable for your choices and your actions. These young women were thrown into an adult world long before they had to be, but they chose not to wallow in self-pity or strike out at others in bitterness and self-loathing, they were too smart to waste life and time on any of that; they picked themselves up, had fun and just kept living. And that’s why they’re my role models, and why I’m so very grateful Mrs. Kaufmann shared them with me – this is Stella’s family the one that took her in when her own birth family tossed her out.” Justin said.

The woman who had teared up was actively crying now but the male reporter still had a sneer of distaste. Justin thought there were some people who could not be reached; they made up their mind before they even walked in the door and no effort or reason would sway them. Any time spent with this guy would not change how he felt, so he made up his mind that if that one wanted additional time or a private interview he wouldn’t be able to squeeze him in.

After the reporters ask a few more questions, one of the trustees finally asked a question, literally raising her hand like in school. She asked it all the women in the paintings had stories like Helen, if they were all real people. Justin said, “Their all based upon real people with real lives and stories. There weren’t photographs of everyone so I had to work off Stella’s descriptions of them. And many of the subjects weren’t in the business at the same time or at the same theater. This largest painting is an example of sort of a fantasy cast or maybe stripper heaven, some of the girls only worked a few months until they got back on their feet or married or moved on to a different city, especially if they were fleeing abuse, so having all of Stella’s best pals clustered around like that would never have been possible. But I wanted to recreate the chaos and joie de vivre of Stella’s memories of her coming of age.”

It wasn’t long after that when Chandra broke it up. There were photos, staged and candid taken by both the newspapers and the MOMA. He was introduced to the rest of the trustees attending that night and given a few moments to freshen up before being whisked to the lobby as the first guests were arriving. He lost Brian for that but Chandra was good at sticking to the schedule and released him from structured service until eleven right on the dot of nine. Justin made his way back to the conference room to rest his feet, drink some water and have a snack.

He wandered back into the crowd, smiling and nodding but never stopping as he looked for Brian. He found him with a couple next to one of the few outdoor paintings of the exhibit, three girls on the steps leading up to a row house. The first was sitting on the steps with her hair rolled around tin cans in the morning light and sewing sequence on a scrap of costume. The next leaned against the stone banister leading up to the house; she was coming home from the night before; lipstick smeared stockings over her shoulder and shoes dangling in her one hand as she was being handed off a baby by the third. The last had perfect hair and makeup and her costume was barely visible underneath a trench coat as she left for work.

The older gentleman, talking to Brian sounded like an artist, not an art critic as he pointed out period details of the painting they were standing near to his much younger female companion. When there was a lull in their conversation Brian said, “Justin, this is Tony and Jill they’re up from Vegas for the weekend. Tony paints.”

Justin couldn’t figure out the smile Brian was trying to suppress. He thought it might be their age difference which was obviously considerable more than Michael and David’s but that would warrant a smirk not this I’ve got a secret look. Tony, from his influences and his referenced to his work was into surrealism, but was impressed with Justin’s work and had lived through the era that Stella had. He talked about being fresh out of the navy at the end of WWII and quite familiar with showgirls and actresses. They had a great conversation and were still at it when Chandra came to collect Justin to go meet the trustees. Tony suggested they get a drink after the opening. Justin glanced at Brian who despite his previous ‘no more old people’ request gave a nod of assent. Justin said he was looking forward to it and followed Chandra. The crowd showed no signs of thinning but the event was scheduled to end at midnight.

After the event the car dropped the four of them at Tony and Jill’s hotel. The concierge greeted them asking how they enjoyed the event. Justin was introduced as the artist and the concierge, who had apparently given Tony the tickets, ushered them away from the lobby bar and up to a lounge on the thirty ninth floor. It had an understated elegance and a spectacular jeweled view of the city lights. They were seated in a quite table near the window and spent another hour enjoying each other’s company before making their farewells along with promises to look each other up if ever in Pittsburgh or Vegas.

Back at their room once they quickly got rid of their clothes and Justin was trying to tickle Brian into telling him what was going on. If anything Brian’s air of amusement had increased on the taxi ride back and by the time they were in the elevator up to their room he was grinning and shaking his head.

“Tell me,” Justin said, kneeling on either side of Brian’s hip.

Brian, who was trying to catch hold of his wrists and stop the tickling said, “I can’t. You won’t get it. It’s not my fault you think ‘Dirty Dancing’ is a *really* old movie.”

“It is,” Justin said, and Brian caught his wrists and pulled them up with his longer arms, so Justin was lying flat on top of him.

“Exactly, so you wouldn’t get it if I told you,” Brian said, transferring one of Justin’s wrists to the other hand so he held both with one hand, and using his legs and now free arm rolled them until he was on top.

“Tell me,” Justin said.

“Tony’s last name is Curtis,” Brian said smugly.

Justin looked up at him still not getting it and said, “I know, he told me so I could look up some of his work when we go to New York, he’s in the Met for Christ sake.”

“Told you you wouldn’t get it, so sad - the youth of today have no sense of history,” Brian said and leaned in and kissed him.

The next morning they finally tried that diner, Bill had told them about. And then, Brian exercised his credit card skills to buy Justin a pair of dress shoes. The staff of the shoe store seemed highly entertained by the full scale queen-off they had over formal pumps verses oxfords. Apparently it was a subject of much importance, although Justin’s motivations had been not wanting to wear what looked like women’s shoes. Eventually Justin won on the Oxford point but Brian picked the style which ended up being wholecut balmoral. Justin couldn’t shake the feeling that those were the ones Brian wanted all along but tried to force a pump just to steer Justin away from ankle boots, which had been his go to footwear of the last five or more years.

They meandered around Chinatown and had lunch at a dim sum place. And then after another taxi ride, they walked around Fisherman’s Warf. Where Justin learned, and after fifteen years it was always nice to find out new ways to tease Brian, that Brian had some sort of aversion to wax works; not the disinterest he tried to present, but he actually seemed to find them creepy.

They went back to the hotel to drop off their purchases, have sex and take a long leisurely shower before dressing for dinner. The concierge at their hotel had made reservations at ‘Gary Danko’ a hot new restaurant and booked them for a five course tasting menu with wine service. It was nearly eleven when they left the restaurant and Brian asked if he wanted to check out the club scene and Justin said sure.

“No, not ‘sure’; what do you want to do?” Brian said.

Justin shrugged, as they waited for the cab that the restaurant staff had summoned, and said, “I’m still feeling the time difference and we didn’t get a nap today so can we just go fuck.”

“See how easy that was,” Brian said.

In the cab on the way back to the hotel Brian suggested coming back, mentioning the shopping was almost as good as New York and the galleries were fresh for both of them. Justin, with an eye on the cab driver who had the potential to think they were crazy agreed and said this time, he wanted to travel together, not just travel to be together. Brian suggested if Justin did end up expelled that trips to Arizona and Texas might be fun. Justin agreed but implied that the land of George Bush might not truly appreciate the kind of man’s man Brian was.

The next morning, Brian had a whole extra bag packed from his purchases and after checking out and leaving their luggage with the hotel they made one more pass thought some of the shops. After brunch, Justin ordered gift baskets for Molly and each of his girls from Ghirardelli’s for Christmas and figured if nothing else he was almost done with his Christmas shopping. He’d got Elizabeth a beautiful silk robe in Chinatown and his mother a handcrafted vase from one of the local galleries. He still needed to find something for his dad and Brian. Brian was hard to buy for, as a compulsive shopper he tended to buy what he wanted when he wanted it and therefore needed nothing. Justin was considering going back to Brian’s leather guy and getting him something to go with those pants, the Leather Ball was coming up in January. He dad was impossible for other reasons.

They would lose all the hours they gained when they traveled the other way and Justin didn’t envy Brian going to work the next day what with this trip being just long enough to mess with their sleep cycle. Although their flight was at two it would be after midnight by the time they got back to the loft. Justin only hoped Brian got some sleep on the flight.


	34. It's astounding

 

Justin groaned and buried his face in Brian’s pillow. Brian had left about a half hour ago to hit the diner before going back to work and though part of Justin felt bad that he could sleep all day and Brian had to go work the other part was wondering why he wasn’t asleep. His phone had rang and gone to voice mail twice and now was ringing again. Brian would have called the landline and yelled at him on the answering machine if it was an emergency. Only his girls were this cruel and sadistic, and break had started but why were any of them calling him at eight AM?

“’Lo?” he rasped and inhaled trying to sooth himself with Brian’s scent from his pillow.

September’s voice was loud and way too awake as she said, “Fuck Justin, I’ve been calling and calling what is wrong with you? Answer your phone! Anyway you said you’re on Fuller by Tremont right?”

“Who wants to know?” Justin asked.

September said, “Don’t be a dick, I have expresso, which one are you?”

“Six Fuller, why” he was cut off by the buzzer to the security door starting to ring. “Fuck, Sep. I got in at an ungodly hour.”

“Answer the door answer the door answer the door answer the door,” she said, “I’ll make the noise stop and give you coffee.”

Justin stumbled naked to stop the unholy racket and after buzzing her in unlatched the door a couple inches before heading back to look for pants. At least the buzzing had stopped and Sep’s yakking because he’d dropped his phone on the kitchen island on the way to the door.

“Justin,” September called after the door rolled back, “I know you’re in here, oh Justin.”

Justin leaned on the frame to the sleeping area. He’d pulled on the jeans he’d flown home in, had no underwear on and hadn’t managed to get the top two buttons fastened but he said, “I hate you. Give me coffee.”

“How could you not be ready, I emailed you,” Sept said, but crossed to him to hand him the large coffee with the Dunkin’ Donuts logo on the cup.

While September blathered on about how she had emailed him the shopping list and hadn’t he printed it out and wasn’t he glad she had brought a copy and why wasn’t he answering her. Justin kept his face buried in the cup and only surfaced when all the coffee was gone. He handed her the empty paper cup and stumbled over to make more coffee when he noticed she wasn’t alone. There was a man with her looking curiously around the loft. And oh what a man, he couldn’t have been older than Brian and had to be at least six foot six. He possibly had to duck to get into the loft. He had broad shoulders and long legs. If he showed up at Babylon, or Woody’s or even the diner a line would have formed; shaggy ash blond hair, fairly clean shaven and light, very light blue eyes. He was also dressed like a color-blind lumberjack but no man was perfect. Justin wondered if straight guys did that on purpose to avoid other men hitting on them.

Maybe Justin had frozen in the process of scooping grounds into the filter because September snapped her fingers way to close to his face.

“Stop that,” Justin barked and then softer and more polite to the stranger, “I’m sorry. I’m Justin, I don’t believe I got your name.”

“You haven’t been listening to a word I said,” September said. “This is my cousin HD, he has a truck; we’re going to go buy the ingredients. Sam’s Club, remember? Do you ever read your email?”

As the water started to gurgle over the grounds, Justin said, “Ungodly hour Sep, time change. Its five AM on the West Coast. Please don’t make me kill you.”

“We can’t wait-” September started.

HD, and oh he had a lovely deep baritone, cut her off with, “Sure we can. Take a shower, get some coffee, she did the same damn thing to me an hour ago.”

“Thanks,” Justin said, and quickly removed the glass pot to pour as much as had brewed into a mug before slipping it back in to catch the rest. He shuffled back to the bedroom to find underwear and a clean shirt before going into the bathroom to shower.

Unlike Brian, Justin could shower and dress in minutes; when he came out the large straight man was not looking uncomfortable at the painting of the naked guy but was squatting near the stairs going up to the sleeping platform examining the benches that lined the front. September had helped herself to coffee and came over to top up Justin’s mug with the last in the pot, while he sat on one of the benches to put on socks and shoes.

“Do you have storage under the platform?” HD asked.

Justin looked at the sleeping area, this loft had been his home for over fifteen years even when he lived in another city, but he had to answer honestly, “I have no idea. I never even thought of it.”

“Just seems like a waste of space if you don’t,” he said, “Not that this place isn’t great. There’re some places in central Lawrenceville up for auction that might work for loft conversions – never done one of those, thought I might give it a try.”

Justin stood and took his mug to the sink while saying, “Not sure I’d want to live in Lawrenceville.”

“People used to say the same thing about The Strip,” HD said. “I think Lawrenceville is on an upswing, it’ll just take some time. Now would be the time to get property cheap, while everybody feels the same as you.”

They took the back way out Allegheny River Boulevard along the river and then came through Penn Hills into the Monroeville Sam’s Club. Once they were inside the vast warehouse sized space, HD went one way with a flat bed and Justin was grunt labor pulling another for September who was wielding the list. There were rolls of cling wrap, wax paper and parchment the sizes used in restaurants, which seemed to be excessive but Justin figured they could just donate the extra to Liberty House to use with all the other baked goods being donated; and it would be cheaper than buying multiple tiny rolls of each at the supermarket. If they were competing with others who were obviously stocking up for similar Christmas baking projects Justin proudly admitted they won. They were in line to check out with; multiple ten pound bags of sugar - granulated, brown and powdered; and twenty five pound bags of flour; a quart bottle of vanilla extract; big spice containers for cinnamon, nutmeg and ginger; several enormous bags of chocolate chips, toffee pieces, raisins, candied fruit, macadamias, walnuts and almonds; twenty five pounds of butter; four boxes of thirty six eggs each. There were somethings they hadn’t found, and somethings they didn’t need enough of to buy in bulk, but Daphne and Tracey were going tomorrow to track that down whatever they couldn’t get here.

HD’s met them at the checkout, his trolley was loaded up with mostly appliances and Justin got the impression that this was his Christmas shopping. Justin was pained when his bill was over five hundred dollars but just swiped his debit card while September was for once stunned silent. After HD loaded the truck and they were on their way back to the loft, September said, “The girls and I will take care of the rest of the stuff Justin, you’ve spent enough as it is.”

“It was my project you guys are doing all the work, I can cover it,” Justin said, although he planned to just write a check next year.

“We know this wasn’t what you had in mind and we want to help too,” September said, “we can be philanthropic just as much as the next guy. Besides all we need are the little things that we didn’t need bulk supplies of, but I was looking around your place, I don’t know where we’ll put extra ovens. You have no counter space and your table is useless.”

Before Justin could suggest they do it at one of the girls houses, HD said “I can get you some folding tables, just give me a number so I can make sure you’re home when I drop them off,” and then asked, “You sure your circuits can handle all this?”

Justin gave him a look that he hoped conveyed he was the wrong one to ask, but since HD kept his eyes on the road he added, “I don’t really know about stuff like that.”

“If anything explodes I have you on speed dial,” September told her cousin.

HD helped them first load the elevator and then unload the ingredients. After dithering a bit Justin had him pile them all the nonperishables in the back corner in front of the picture of the naked guy. Justin thanked God that the fridge rarely held much more than bottled water and last night’s left overs. HD left September there, which kind of threw a wrench in Justin’s plan to go back to bed and he was about to suggest they go get something to eat when Lindsay called. Called Justin, not the landline of the loft and he didn’t even know she had his number.

“Hello. Hey Linds, how’s everything?” He asked. “Ah no, I wasn’t doing anything in particular,” he covered the phone and said, “She needs someone to watch the baby for a while; you want to come with me?” September nodded and Justin said to Lindsay, “Give us twenty minutes we have to bus over.”

Justin shoved a sketch pad into his messenger bag and they headed over to the Munchers. On the way to the bus stop they grabbed breakfast sandwiches, just as McDonalds was about to stop serving them. They took a bus over to Mel and Linds’ neighborhood and when Lindsay looked surprised that Justin brought September. Justin said, “We were just hanging out, we can do that and watch Gus.”

“I just need to run out for a few minutes I shouldn’t even be an hour,” Lindsay said.

Justin said, “Take your time; don’t rush. Do something for yourself while you’re out.”

“Get your nails done or something,” September said. “We’ll call if anything weird happens.”

“Weird?” Justin asked before Lindsay could.

September shrugged, “Explosive diarrhea, speaking in tongues, head spinning around. We won’t attempt an exorcism by ourselves, we’ll call.”

“Yeah, if anything like that happens, we’re prepared.” Justin deadpanned.

So Lindsay left looking only slightly terrified that she was leaving her kid with Justin and the deranged teenaged girl he’d brought with him. While she was gone Justin sketched Gus, while September did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen and went upstairs allegedly to use the bathroom but Justin knew it was Lesbian Day at the zoo and September was doing some bizarre Jane Goodall style research.

Justin only had to stop sketching once to change a diaper. Gus was just as much a happy baby this time through as the last. It was hard to imagine this little dumpling turning into the tall, handsome boy he’d last seen at his father’s funeral. He had just taken the chill off a bottle and started feeding Gus when Lindsey returned.

“I’m so sorry I took so long,” she said.

Justin smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I don’t think missing one dirty diaper with impede the mother/child bond.”

“Where’s your friend?” Lindsay asked.

There was a cringe worthy question but Justin said, “She went up to use the bathroom.” And he and Gus went to the bottom of the stair and he called, “Sep? Are you okay?”

She skipped down the stairs while saying, “I took a wrong turned. This place has a lot of wasted space. Oh, hi, you’re back already. You know you have a lot of usable space in your attic.”

Justin recalled Lindsay had turned it into a studio and was appalled, if September had to go snooping did she have to advertise it. If Lindsay and Mel didn’t do the stint in Canada and as a result have to get a new house when they came back after six months; Justin thought it might make a pretty cool room for when Gus was older, a teenager might like being up above the madness of moms below.

September said, “You could turn it into a guest room, or house an au pair. Are you going to get one, to help with the baby after you go back to work?”

“I’m kind of reluctant to go back to work; I didn’t count on falling in love with this little guy. I’m not sure if I can bear to be parted,” Lindsay said, taking Gus from Justin. “I’m actually thinking of being a stay at home mom.

September said, “Seriously? You don’t think you’ll feel isolated, and go all crazy talking to the appliances and shit? I don’t like school, but that’s where everyone is, cutting would just have me by myself watching ‘Oprah’, so why not go in and catch up on the ongoing drama of Justin.”

“I live to be your entertainment,” Justin said.

September rattled on, “There is room for a bed under the eaves and you could put a sitting area, add some insulation and drywall. If you build in a closet, you can legally call it a bedroom so if you ever sell your house that should increase your value.”

Justin said, “Even if you don’t go back to work, having an extra set of hands would give you a chance to take a nap, or a bath or spend some quiet time with Mel.”

Lindsay thinned her lips and Justin could read her like a book, she didn’t want to argue but was completely against the idea and she said, “At this stage in Gus’ life what he needs most is his mother.”

“I had an au pair, I’m not messed up. Even before mom died we needed au pairs, it doesn’t make my parents neglectful and junk,” September said. “They just realized they couldn’t give me 100% of their attention 100% of the time. You know, prior to the advent of the so called nuclear family, children had networks of caregivers and it’s never been proven that having a limited two parent household isn’t detrimental or stunting of a child’s ability to form and maintain a variety interpersonal relationships.”

Justin was torn between telling Sep to shut up; and pounding his head against the wall. The silence stretched after Sep’s random fact spew and out of the corner of his eye, Justin saw Lindsay open her mouth to speak and then close it so he figured he’d handled the timely, WASPy, subject change away from hired child care and said, “Still shame to waste the space, probably wouldn’t cost much to finish it, and then you’d have a spare bedroom for whatever you wanted to use it for.”

“I know somebody,” September said. “He could do it. I mean he’s not official but he has a truck and tools and there’s nothing he can’t do.”

Justin snorted and said, “You’re too young to pull off ‘I know a guy’. When have you ever remodeled?”

“I know guys. When my Aunt Cathy moved into her new house, in one week, HD stripped fifty years of wall paper; skim coated the walls before painting them, replaced the windows, put in new lights, and laid cork flooring. He flips houses, all the time, he bought his first house at auction and fixed it up when he was like eighteen, he can do it all; he’s awesome.” September said.

“But, HD’s your cousin right; that was for family” Justin said.

“Kind of, his great grandfather was the second husband of my grandmother on my dad’s side, and my mom’s side is where the crazy comes from so he’s totally cool,” September shrugged, “and Aunt Cathy is from Mom’s side, the neurotic ones.”

Lindsay didn’t seem very receptive, despite September saying she would send her information on the agency her parents used. But Justin was thinking of at least presenting it to Brian as a solution. Maybe if Lindsay went back to work, even part time it would prevent some of the drama she and Mel had gone through.

On the way to the diner by bus, Justin tried to grill September about what all she’d been up to while poking around Mel and Lindsay’s place, but she just kept saying nothing. They had late lunch or early dinner with September gaping at Kiki and the assorted clientele. He hadn’t taken any of the girls clubbing or to Woody’s like he’d dragged Daphne last time, mostly because he felt responsible for them. Physically he was seventeen but the thirty three year old felt it would be like buying Gus’ friends alcohol. Giving blow job tips was one thing, but the thought of dragging teen girls out in the clubbing crowds made him painfully aware of how bad of a turn his life could have taken if it hadn’t been Brian who plucked him off that street corner.

Debbie was just getting in and must be on for the dinner rush. She stopped to greet him and he introduced September giving Deb a chance to lay a few zingers about Brian turning him straight since he was there with a girl. Once she went into the back to get clocked in and get an order pad September leaned forward and asked in what she probably thought was a discrete loud stage whisper, “Was that a woman or the worst drag queen ever?”

“That’s Brian’s best friend Michael’s mom, and it’s not an act, that’s all Debbie, all the time,” Justin said.

September frowned, “She didn’t sound like she likes Brian much.”

“She thinks she does, he thinks she does, she just doesn’t have much filter and I don’t think she gets how some of the things she says sound. You ever want to film people and play it back for them so they can watch themselves, hear themselves and how what they think their saying sounds to other?” Justin asked.

September said, “I would have loved to have done it with my mom. Strapped her in front of a wide screen like in ‘Clockwork Orange’ and run a highlight reel.”

Justin changed the subject since September got really down when she talked about her mom and settled the check. They were weaving in and out the eclectic businesses of The Strip District. September and he were debating how hard it would be to make sushi while examining a bamboo rolling mat and trying to figure out the prep instructions, harder than it sounded since neither of them read or spoke Japanese, on packaged seaweed in an Asian Market when Brian called.

“Is there a coming apocalypse you neglected to tell me about?” was Brian’s sardonic response to his hello.

Justin shot September a confused glance and said, “What?”

“There are enough butter and eggs in the fridge to stop my heart just looking at it,” Brian said.

“Do not even joke about that,” Justin hissed.

He heard Brian swallow and then said, “Okay not funny, but seriously, what the fuck?”

“I told you about that right? Vic recruited me for the Liberty House cookie sale,” Justin said.

Brian said, “I vaguely remember a plan to bake premade dough after you scoffed when I told you to just buy them from Moio’s.”

“That would probably have been cheaper,” Justin said, his phone made the noise from another call, “hang on a second. Hello?”

A deep familiar voice said, “I have those tables, can I swing by now, I’d like to get the hell out of town before rush out is in full force.”

“Yeah, someone’s there to let you in, thanks, do I just call you when we’re done?” Justin said.

He’d said, “Or have September let me know, either way.”

“Thanks,” Justin said as the call disconnected, “Brian? You still there?”

“Still here, still wondering why the fridge is full of not-edible raw stuff,” Brian said.

“Which means you haven’t even noticed the pile of other not-edible stuff in the corner by the naked guy,” Justin said, and heard the buzzer on the loft door ring so hastily added, “I should probably tell you about the very large man at the door, shouldn’t I?”

“First take out and now you’ve arranged delivery that’s really sweet Justin, where are you anyway?” Brian said and Justin heard the door rolling back so he must have hit the security switch and wandered out to the elevator.

Justin said, “I’m on Liberty just wandering around with September, that very large straight guy is bringing tables for the coming baking event on Wednesday. The girls may be going a bit overboard. I swear we’ll clean up.”

“Okay, yeah whatever, I gotta go,” Brian said.

Justin said, “No, Brian, he’s straight,” but the call had already disconnected.

 

 


	35. Time is fleeting

Justin looked up from his current assignment at the sound of the door to the loft rolling open.

“Score!” September called as she and Emmett stepped into the loft carrying shopping bags filled with gift boxes from Macy’s, September was waving one bag over her head as she said, “Holy shit, you guys have been busy.”

There were six portable convection ovens; Daphne had brought two since one was her grandma’s, in addition to the built-in oven in the loft’s island. They were spaced out on two of the long metal folding tables, HD had provided. The electric bill was going to be astronomical. The remaining table was cluttered with bowls and measuring cups open bags of ingredients, three mixers and a food processor. The floor of the loft was covered in parchment, which was in turn covered in cooling cookies. The loft was practically carpeted in them.

September and Emmett had been sent on a mission, since September had grown up across the street from Darcy Michaels, who had graduated from St. James last year, and Darcy’s mother worked at Macy’s. September had gone to see if she could persuade Mrs. Michaels and Macy’s, to donate gift boxes to transport the cookies once they were cooled. Justin could have kicked himself for not thinking that they would need something like that. The girls had pumped their moms and grandmothers for recipes and after filtering out ones that were too similar and sometimes doubling or tripling them to make at least twelve dozen of each had narrowed it down to a truly impressive array. Justin and they had four hours of baking in before Monica had looked up and asked, “How are we going to get all of these anywhere?”

Tracy had said her grandmother often used gift boxes for cookies. That had prompted a call to Emmett, who not only wasn’t at work but told them Torso didn’t use gift boxes. But he was free and offered to stop by lend a hand and went with September, hours ago, to hit up Mrs. Michaels. Justin was sure given it was September and Emmett that they had probably stopped to shop and had a latte and it would serve Emmett right if she pumped him for blow job tips.

Justin was ready to be done; he never wanted to see another cookie as long as he lived. The girls thought that they should do it again tomorrow. Thank god they were almost out of flour; when he bought two twenty five pound bags of flour, he was sure he would be throwing at least some of it out. Daphne had used the last of it on her Russian Tea Cakes. Mostly Justin had just been doing what they told him to, grind nuts, grate orange rind, place dough on sheets with a melon baller, or as he was now rolling warm cookies in powdered sugar. They had laid waxed paper on the floor and cut out shapes in a rich buttery dough and Monica had mixed colors in icing and spent hours decorating the cooled trees and stars.

Emmett who had met September outside and missed the chaos before their trip was looking around in awe. Justin wasn’t sure if the thousands of cookie were responsible or if he was picturing the stroke Brian would have when he saw what they had done to the loft. When Emmett met his eyes and offered a huge grin, Justin knew he was picturing Brian’s reaction, “Not funny Em,” he said.

Justin had picked up cling wrap, parchment and waxed paper in the enormous bulk sized rolls Sam’s Club offered but was trying to stay out of the debate currently raging between Brittany and Daphne about if they should wrap the cookies for sale before packaging them, which might warrant the need to go buy different supplies, or if they should packages them all one kind of cookie in the same box or make up varieties for transport so the each sale sight would not get just one type of cookie. Liberty House was setting up tables in most of the major shopping areas around downtown on Friday and Saturday.

“There’s coffee,” Justin offered and September did a hop skip to the machine and got two mugs down.

Emmett approached the counter, warily, avoiding stepping on cookies or getting to close to one of the ovens, “Quite the little team of elves you have here, Sunshine.”

“Women, they will run your life,” Justin muttered, causing Daphne and Brittney to briefly unite and turn to stick their tongues out at him.

“How are you getting them there? I mean I get you’re going to put them in the boxes, but this is going to be a lot of boxes,” Em said.

Tracy looked up from shifting hot Oatmeal Butterscotch Cookies from the baking sheet to a tiny uncovered portion of parchment and said, “Dads. Mine and Mon’s are bringing their SUVs but they won’t be here ‘til after five cause of work.”

“It’s after five now,” Emmett said.

Justin looked up in horror, looked around the room and said, “Fuck.” He handed his bowl of powdered sugar off to Emmett jumped the cookies nearest him, nearly careened into Monica and her masterpieces and tripped into the only uncluttered place beside the bathroom, the sleeping platform. Grapping his phone off the charger he hit his number one speed dial. Surveying the loft from this raised vantage point it suddenly wasn’t quite as amusing, cookies and girls as far as the eye could see – and well, Emmett.

“Hi. Any chance you’re working late?” Justin greeted, and then said. “You know, you haven’t seen Gus in days, maybe now would be a good time to visit. No. Everything’s fine.” Except Em might fall off the stool snickering, at least he was picking up the slack by rolling balls in sugar. “It’s not bad. I promise it will be clean before,” and the sound of the loft door had him look over to see Brian standing there with his phone to his ear, so he added, “New Year’s.”

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Brian said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Britney and Monica looked terrified but Daphne and September giggled.

Tracy who was next to Emmett as she pulled another hot tray from the oven nearest him whispered, “He’s so hot.”

“Thank you, Tracy,” Brian said, biting his lip and asked, “Either of these two belong to you?” Stepping inside it was apparent two middle aged men had ridden up in the elevator with Brian and had been lurking behind him.

“Daddy,” Tracy squeaked.

“I would ask you gentleman in, but apparently there isn’t much in left,” Brian said.

Justin, who had disconnected when he saw Brian standing there jumped as his phone vibrated and answered it. “Hello, oh hey Vic, I’m glad you called the girls need you to settle a debate or we’ll never get these down there.” He stepped carefully over to Daphne and handed her his phone.

“Justin. What should we do,” Brittney asked now that she no longer had Daphne’s attention.

“You and Sep, start assembling boxes, Em, keep rolling those balls. Trac, check to see which ones still need to cool and move them away from the ones ready to be packed. Mon, empty the dish washer and start another load and Brian, change your clothes, Mr. Payne, the waxed paper is on the coffee table can you start tearing it in box sized sheets so we can line them, and I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Justin you must be Monica’s father.”

“Bob Horvath,” he said, “quite the little army you have.”

“Tomorrow we take over the world. Would either of you like coffee or a bottle of water or you know cookies?” Justin asked.

Brian slipped into the bedroom and shut the panels; he seemed more amused than angry and came out shortly barefoot, in jeans and a black tee shirt. He deftly wove his way past the cookies over to the office area. After Daphne said that Vic told her to box them by cookie type the packing went quickly. Tracy announced that the last of the dough was currently baking, and a cheer went up.

During the whirlwind of packing activity, where even the dad’s had cling wrapped their hands and were quickly and efficiently boxing cookies. Brian had motioned Daphne to join him in the office area and had been typing away. Daphne seemed to be everywhere and had gone back over to Brian a couple of times. It wasn’t until she was taping the names of the cookie types to the tops of the boxes that he realized Brian had not only been printing labels but had typed up the handwritten recipes and printed them out. He might not be one for manual labor but he could type like the wind and knew how to pick fonts and sizes so that the pages containing the recipes could be folded like a book and had an index.

Once the bulk of the cookies were packed and they were only waiting for the ones still cooling. Tracy’s dad took her, September and Em to Liberty House with the first load. Emmett was a last minute addition both because he knew the way and because September wanted to meet, Godiva, Emmett’s drag queen friend who he had told her about while shopping. As they waited for the last of the cookies and the remaining four ovens to cool Brian got Mr. Horvath a beer, and made small talk, probably pretending he was a client.

Justin, whom had been relieved to discover Monica, was a fan and not an abused child complimented her on her icing as he rolled up and trashed the parchment from the floor. They really were awesome, but seemed a waste since people were just going to eat them.

“Thanks, I just draw though, I don’t paint,” she said, following him to the kitchen.

Justin got a bottle of water, handing Monica one without giving her a choice, because he knew she wanted in but would have to think and dither and really given what it took to get her to start talking to him he was making an excepting to his letting people choose for themselves rule.

He said, “no one is born knowing how to paint. You should at least try other media outside your comfort zone. Have you looked into that program I took last year at CMU? It gave me the opportunity to try lots of things I’d never done.”

“My stuff isn’t anything like yours though it’s all flat and junk,” She said.

And to be honest Justin knew nothing about recognizing the seeds of greatness or nurturing a budding artist. That was more Lindsay’s field. For all he knew Monica would end up in a cul-de-sac decoupaging her kids bedroom furniture as her creative outlet. But given that for all he knew she might be a genius he motioned her sit on the couch and went to the office and opened a couple drawer of his file system. He pulled out a drawing of Brian and Gus, one of the preliminary sketches for the big dressing room painting from the burlesque tribute, a preliminary sketch for the music history tribute and a couple of his abandoned historic building work and brought them over to the now cleared coffee table.

Daphne and Brittney finished packing up all the cookies and gathered round as well. Justin put down the music hall interior scene, next to a drawing of the Churchworks, an old church which had been converted to a microbrewery/restaurant, and said, “By flat, do you mean the difference between this, and this?”

Monica picked each out and looked closely at them. Brian and Mr. Horvath ambled over to have a look, and Justin next put down the dressing room sketch, next to the mill workers inline for the teller windows in the big plush bank lobby and asked, “or the difference between this and this?”

“The difference isn’t technique or talent, its passion,” Justin said, and laid down the one of Brian and Gus before saying, “like this. Now, at school, you’re learning technique. Work on that, and then when you find a subject matter or message that inspires you, you’ll have what you need to put in out there.”

“What program?” Monica’s dad asked.

Justin said, “It’s a precollege program at CMU over the summer – six weeks, eight classes. You can check it out online. It’s all day and you get use of the campus facilities. I really learned a lot, and on Fridays you go all over the city, museums, galleries, even tours of businesses who use art or printing in operations.”

“I don’t think I could make a living as an artist,” Monica said.

Justin shrugged, “You don’t have to make a living at it to still be an artist. Even if all you ever do are pictures of your kids while working in an office, you’d still be an artist.”

“Honey, do you want this?” Her dad asked.

“I don’t know,” Monica said and looked at Justin as if he could tell her.

Justin said, “It’s your decision. It’s not your only choice. You could decide to just take one class dedicated to whatever media you want to try, doesn’t have to be painting. And you don’t have to decide now, check CMU or Pitt or even CCAC on their application deadlines and course schedule and see what you have to choose from.”

“What if I don’t like it?” Monica asked, causing Brittney to huff.

“What if you do?” Justin said, and Daphne wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind.

“What if I’m not any good?” Monica said and Brittney rolled her eyes.

Justin grinned and Daphne joined him in saying, “What if you are?”

Monica side-eyed her dad who looked amused and said, “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

The rest of the ovens, and boxes and boxes of cookies were packed up and loaded into Mr. Horvath’s SUV, and he took girls and cookies to Liberty House, with Daphne as guide. The last of the clean-up was humming away in the dishwasher. Everyone had taken their cookie sheets, bowls and measuring cups home with them, unsurprisingly Brian didn’t own cookie sheets. The folding tables were collapsed down and lined up against a wall for September’s cousin.

Justin came up from taking the trash out to find Brian nibbling on a pizzelle. “I thought we packed everything,” Justin said.

“Daphne insisted we keep a variety,” Brian said. “We have to give these away, maybe drop them at Redstone to kill the old people. I know you’ll eat them but I don’t want you in a diabetic coma.”

Justin hugged him from behind and said, “Just so you know how bad it is, I never want to see sweets again.”

Brian laughed and said, “Until tomorrow morning when you eat a pound of cookies and drink all the milk.”

“I have an idea,” Justin said.

Brian leaned back against him and said, “I’m all ears.”

“First we fuck, then we nap and then please god, take me somewhere that’ll make me remember I’m a gay man and to a hormonal teenaged girl,” Justin said.

“Bad news; its dyke night,” Brian said.

“We’re going to see Lindsay and Mel?” Justin asked.

Brian laughed and said, “No at Babylon, its dyke night.”

“Fuck,” Justin said. “No seriously, fuck. Fuck me until I’m unconscious and then I don’t know. Porn? Woody’s? Anything with no women.”


	36. Madness takes it's toll

Justin was surprised by how busy they’d been. It was Friday. Didn’t any of these people work? He and Tracy were manning the table at Station Square with two other volunteers. Regina was a twentysomething tall thin tattoo artist from Oakland who had about thirty piercings in each ear, more in places Justin didn’t want to see and half her head of riotous dark curls shaved to a quarter of an inch and the other half down to the middle of her back. Mitch, apparently short for Michelle, was a square shaped woman from Shaler with goth black hair cut in a short seventies shag and wearing Doc Martins, jeans and flannel. Tracy had actually positioned herself between Mitch and Justin and said, “Please be careful, he’s allergic to flannel.”

Next to them, Justin and Tracy, who was sporting new blond highlights in odd chunky streaks, looked like they stepped off the screen from ‘Pleasentville’. Tracy, in a pink angora skirt, shell and cardigan set with her hair gathered in a low chignon, was channeling Elle Woods and that movie was still in the future so he had no idea where she’d pulled this character from. She was like superWASP, sorority girl extraordinaire. She didn’t stay at the table like their scowling lesbian support, well Regina wasn’t scowling but she was in your face and more out to shock the shoppers by flashing her tongue piercing, than raise money. Tracy was bouncing about in the foot traffic introducing herself and asking people if they were sure one dozen was enough, before they even knew she was selling cookies. Justin had visions of Tracy as an absolutely terrifying girl scout. Since Tracy was doing it Justin was engaging people as they walked by with a big smile and suggestions such as how shoppers should buy cookies for their stylist or their favorite sales clerk or their banker. Frankly he sometimes got the idea that people were so grateful they weren’t Mormons or Scientologist that their purchases were some sort of offering of thanks. The recipe books had sold out and they called in another order to Liberty House to come with their relief, who were late. Justin had bought one of the booklets for Bertie, because Stella was credited in the back as a contributor.

Neither wanted to leave the table with just Regina and Mitch, who were good at handing out what was asked for and taking money, but just sat there waiting to be approached by people. The other volunteers were a half hour late. Someone at Liberty House was smart enough to set the schedules with four people to a table, with staggered four hour shifts, two people started every two hours. That way if someone was late or didn’t show, the table was never abandoned. They also had people restocking throughout the day and picking up the cash so there was never too much on site. Tracy had briefly stopped her cheerful assault on the masses to text September to tell her to come have dinner with them. Daphne had family plans tonight and Mon and Brittney were working a table out in Ross Park Mall, so they had one of their dads with them to drive and were on their own.

+

Daphne and September had worked the table at Waterworks since noon. They were in the process of helping their relief, Joe and Bing; unload more cookies from a Mercedes Town Car. These had to be what Justin called Stepford fags. They were older and sort of icky in a parents kissing kind of way, but seemed thrilled by how much loot the girls had made. The recipe booklets that Joe, who owned a copy store, had printed up on cardstock were selling like porn at ten bucks a pop. They had used Brian’s template and on the back page printed that the proceeds were to benefit Liberty House. All their names were listed as authors; well Justin had substituted Stella’s for his since it was her recipe for the unpronounceable pocket cookies. Joe was talking about doing a second run, since they had connections with some local book stores and they would make great gifts.

“Isn’t that Justin’s mom,” September asked, “Do we like her today or has she been mean to Just, again?”

Daphne nodded and called, “Mrs. Taylor.” As she waved Justin’s mom came over and greeted them and asked what they were doing there. Daphne showed her the booklet and explained about the service project they’d all done over at Justin’s place. Mrs. Taylor expressed concern about how they could do all that since Justin’s place had such dated appliances and as far as she knew a kitchen devoid of everything but bottled water.

“Not the studio, at his loft,” September said. “But your right, that place is a total bachelor pad it has no counter space and who has a dining room table for two, right? We brought in folding tables.”

The look on Mrs. Taylor’s face had September and Daphne exchanging glances and Daphne jumping in to change the subject.

“Hey, come with us to Cold Stone, we have all the dirt on Justin and we can warm up,” Daphne said.

September snorted and said, “You want to warm up with ice cream?”

“Calories, fat, how do you think you get warm?” Daphne reasoned and then said to Mrs. Taylor. “Come on, when’s the last time you dished with the girls?”

So the three of them went to Cold Stone Creamery and kept up lite banter about what was going on until Mrs. Taylor asked about Justin’s suspension. Daphne acted like she was holding something back but as far as September could tell she spilled her guts. Not that she’d told anything bad, it wasn’t like it was Justin’s fault that psycho Hobbes was stalking him. Then Daphne’s dad called to say he was out in the parking lot to pick her up, she said goodbye and left September alone with a lady she didn’t really know and didn’t really like. Didn’t like because Justin was a bro and his mom was picking something or someone else over her son and that was just selfish; no one asked her to be a mom and if she couldn’t cut it she shouldn’t have stepped up to the damn plate.

“Listen,” September said, “you don’t know me and you’ll probably get all pissy that I’m butting into your business. But I love your son, so he is my business. You’re making a mistake. You think you have all the time in the world, that once he comes to his senses you’ll be able to welcome him with open arms and you’ll be a family again. Life doesn’t work that way. Things happen that no one can control or predict and whatever reasonable ending you have planned will go up in smoke because it’ll be too late.”

Mrs. Taylor looked like a crier, so thank God there was a napkin dispenser on the table, because September’s mom had made her utterly immune, and slightly hostile to criers. She dabbed her eyes and said, “What do you mean, is Justin in danger?”

“No more than I am or you are,” September said. “Let me tell you a story, it’s about my first crush. His name was Jake, he was so dreamy, yes dreamy, I was like nine what do you want. He had dark hair and dark eyes, his mom was from the Philippines and his dad was an Apache – it made for one smoking hot package. He graduated high school and joined a band, played drums, road a motorcycle; it was like he followed some handbook on how to be cool. Then he fell head over heels for the bass player, the best D-man in high school hockey, a great big bad ass with the soul of an artist. Jake’s mom kicked him out, couldn’t have a gay son. So the drummer and bass player moved in together and built a life. Jake still went to mass, but drove to a different parish so as not to shame his mother. They remind me a lot of Justin and Brian.”

“September it’s not being gay that’s the problem, Brian is much too old for Justin,” Mrs. Taylor said.

“And here’s what you need to realize,” September said, “It’s kind of the moral of the story. There is always a last Christmas, a last argument, a last time you storm off, or a last time he hangs up on you because you keep beating the same dead horse about how uncomfortable Brian’s age makes you, or Justin living in the loft makes you or how the way Justin dresses makes his father’s blood pressure rise.”

“I don’t know what that last memory is for Jake’s mother,” September said and sniffed, she’d be damned if she’d cry, both these women threw their kids away. She continued “But she wasted nearly seven years being sure she was right about that redneck thug he was off being gay with, she always thought he’d come back to her, that he’d see the light. Only he never got the chance, some yuppie in a Hummer who was too busy hollering at his kids in the back seat didn’t see the light either, and Hummer verse motorcycle, well no one really wins, but the passengers in the Hummer walk away, and the guy on the motorcycle has his last everything.”

“I appreciate the fact you care enough to want to help-” Mrs. Taylor started.

“Oh, I’m not doing this for you. If Justin dies tomorrow I want you to suffer, to spend the rest of your life lying awake and wondering what you could have done differently, I want your regrets to eat you alive. No one made you become a mother and you’re fumbling the ball sister. That story was for Justin, because you’re not all that young and people die all the time. I don’t want his last memory of you to be you balling your eyes out because he won’t let you infantilize him.”

Mrs. Taylor said nothing she didn’t look mad and she wasn’t crying she just stared. She didn’t even blink. Septembers phone vibrated once for an incoming text and she glanced down, it was from Tracy – their relief was running late but when they showed they were going to the Cheese Cellar, did she want to meet them? So September said, “I’m glad we had this talk. I feel much better. You have a Merry Christmas, Mrs. Taylor,” and got up and left.

+

Ted and Blake were their relief and Justin took a moment to be glad that the people who left when Regina and Mitch arrived had clear their cash drawer of all but a hundred in ones, because if he remembered, Blake was still using at this time or was he about to fall off the wagon? Justin wondered if that had anything to do with them being so late. Ted brought more cookbooks and more cookies. After meeting Justin introduced, Tracy, Regina and Mitch, both Ted and Blake had gone back to Ted’s car for another load. September had texted Tracy about fifteen minutes ago that she was on her way.

Regina and Mitch were on about the third hour of their four hour shift and didn’t seem very happy with Blake and Ted being late. Which was silly because Justin and Tracy were the ones who’d been here over five hours; Justin felt his smile was frozen on his face and had no idea where Tracy was getting her boundless energy. She hadn’t slipped out of the bubbly character she was playing and not even one River Tam-esque comment had been dropped; which for Tracy if she hadn’t been playing a part would have been a miracle. September came down the mall from the direction of Houlihan's and only blinked when Tracy left out a squeal, ran over, kissed both cheeks and dragged her back to Justin.

Regina said to Mitch, but loud enough for Justin to hear, “Another fucking blonde.” And Justin wanted to take umbrage but was unfortunately reminded of the line from ‘Steel Magnolias’ where Clairee says her family looked like they were carved out of cream cheese. Without Daphne, Brittney and Monica, they did kind of look like they stepped off a Nazi propaganda poster. September kissed him on each cheek like Tracy had done to her. September was good like that, she would go along when there was an audience, and when Tracy was playing a part Sep would treat it like the new norm until told differently. So until September decided what she wanted to be when she grew up Justin was not going to mention that he thought she’d make a natural grifter.

When Ted and Blake came back in and Justin introduced September; while he was shouldering his messenger bag Tracy was kissing the dykes’ cheeks and saying how they must keep in touch and wishing them a happy holiday. Justin finally slipped an arm around her waist and dragged her away and September tucked herself under his other arm. When they were far enough away heading for the other end of the mall to the fondue place he asked, “What the actual fuck?”

“Yeah, Trace,” September said, “even I thought you were a little over the top at the end.”

“Maybe,” Tracy shrugged and dropped her over enthusiastic voice, “but those fucking dykes, they called Justin a twink and then they just sat there like a couple of paper weights. Seriously they acted like their time was more valuable than ours.”

“Honey, I am a twink,” Justin said.

Tracy pulled away and punched his shoulder and said, “No you’re not I looked up gay slang online it comes from Twinkie, junk food, good taste but no value nutritionally. Your insides are way more important than your outsides and they don’t even know you.”

“So?” Justin said rubbing his shoulder, that was going to bruise, “People are judgmental. This is a surprise? We all judge people; just because she’s a dyke doesn’t mean she’s not judging all the people who judge her right back.”

“What Tracy means is, that bitch can be as narrow-minded as she wants to be – at home, out in the bars, wherever. But if she volunteered to be here she needed to drop the ‘tude and be here and get along with the other people, or at least pretend to.” September said

While they waited by the ‘please wait to be seated’ sign Tracy said, “Yeah, seriously, neither of them put forth any effort. And that boney bitch was on my last nerve it was like she was trying to drive the customers away.”

A hostess seated them at a booth with a flat grill panel in the center. Leaving them with menus and promising to bring drinks. They had discussed it and were getting a three course meal: hot oil to cook meat strips at their table; cheese to dip bread and veggies into; and chocolate, with pieces of cake and fruit. While waiting for someone to take that order, Justin explained patiently, “Regina was pissed you stole her audience Trace. She’s spent a lot of time on the hair, the tattoos; the piercings. She doesn’t care how she’s looked at; she just wanted attention. You upstaged her. Theater majors, you always steal the show.”

They ordered when the waitress brought their iced teas. And September said, “Forget about her, or add ‘sullen dyke’ to yourrepertoire if your ever cast as one.”

“Please don’t do ‘sullen dyke’ at school Tracy,” Justin said. “People will just think you’re off your meds.”

“She has to hone her craft, Justin,” September said.

“I’m okay with that,” Justin said, “as long as honing her craft doesn’t involve invoking ‘Manon’, or casting spells on rivals.

Tracy sighed, ignoring both of them, “I need to get better at seeing why people do what they do. I just see ‘mean girl’ not all the junk you get. How do you do that Justin? How do you read people like that?”

“I don’t know, with me, and I think Monica, we look and think ‘is no one else seeing this?’ I think that’s why we both create in visual mediums, we’re not trying to preserve or reproduce something like a snap shot; we’re trying to show the world what it looks like to us; to say ‘now, now do you see?’.” He said.

September said, “Take Psych classes, and some Sociology and even Anthropology. They all study people, who they are, why they are who they are.”

“Makes sense,” Justin said, “you’re going to have to take some of those just to fulfill your distribution requirements anyway.”

A server brought oil and turned on the grill to heat the pot, he removed bowls of raw chicken and beef strips and whole de-tailed shrimp from his tray and set them around the table, gave each of them serving plates and fondue forks. He was a couple years older than them and gave Justin a come hither look. Justin gave him a look that he hoped said ‘no you may not blow me in the bathroom’. Once the server left them the girls got, well girly and giggled and tease him to the point he wanted to let them know that ‘no, Brian would not be jealous, Brian would have had the kid meet them both in the bathroom on his break’ but decided he did not want to have that talk with them just yet.

In a bid to change the subject he asked how Daph and Sep had done at Waterworks. Sep said they lucked out with two hot young college studs for their second two hours, who were only slightly sickly sweet in the honeymoon of a relationship. Sep also shared that both of them had heard of Brian. That bit of information gave Justin the screaming horrors at the thought of just what the girls had been shared regarding Brian.

“Oh dear God, what did you tell them?” Justin said.

September huffed and took her time loading her fork and then parking it in the pot to cook, before saying, “Would you chill, nothing but nice things, like how he designed the recipe book and let us use his place and how awesome his kid is. Justin, they were fans, you’d have thought we said we knew Brad Pitt. They were nothing like that Debbie woman, well Jeff said he heard Brian was an asshole, but he probably heard it from Debbie so now he knows Brian isn’t an asshole. Oh, and your mom stopped and had ice cream with Daph and me after our shift. Daphne spilled everything about your suspension, total play by play.”

“Fuck,” Justin said.

“You know Daphne likes her mom, it makes her like other people’s moms,” September said, “she’s just weird like that.

“I like my mom,” Justin said, looking around for the server, because they had almost finished the meat and he was ready for the cheese fondue. The booths had high backs and made it an intimate romantic style restaurant so he could only see the booths almost directly across the wide aisle, one was empty and in the other he could see the back of a blonde woman’s head and a hot guy. Correction, Drew Boyd, Christ this was a small town. Of course given his knowledge of football he could be tripping over half the team on a daily basis and not know it.

While he was looking September replied, “No, you love your mom. I loved my mom, that’s what gives them the power to fuck us up. We don’t always like them. You care what your mom thinks and you want her to not only love you but like you. Do not go down that path my brother. You’re the one who told me that it’s more important to like yourself than to have other people like you. That applies even more to moms. They’re our blind spots, our Achilles heel – nobody can fuck you up like your mom can. I have walked that road. Learn from me and spare yourself years of therapy.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Tracy announce abruptly.

Justin and September looked at her and waited. Tracy was sitting on the outside and September on the inside so no one needed to move. She added, “You have to come with me.”

Since she was looking at him and not September Justin said, “I’m not a woman, Trace. I have my own bathroom. And men don’t go to the bathroom together to gossip - they go to have sex in the stalls.”

“Come with me,” Tracy said to September, grabbed her arm and dragged her off in search of the ladies room.

Drew’s lady friend had turned in her seat and was peering around the corner of their booth - at Justin. Apparently the height of the booths did nothing to muffle the acoustics and they’d been eavesdropping. Drew had kind of an incredulous look on his face as well, so Justin said to them, “She’s – strangely literal, so the truth is always better than subtly.”

Fortunately the server came to take the oil pot and leave the cheese. He also flirted and slipped Justin his number. According to the piece of paper his name was Geno. Justin was going to toss it and then considering he was hot, tall and Italian with a swimmer’s build so Justin figured he would paperclip it on one of the take out menus at home, Brian would know what that meant. Justin then dug into the fondue while he waited for the girls to get back.

Moments later, September came back by herself, slipped into the booth and said, “I’m sorry. I need to stop projecting my mom issues on you. You need to tell me to back off. I’m not fucking made of glass; when I push too much; push back damn it.”

“You mean like when you ransacked the munchers house? And then came down and admitted you’d been poking everywhere including the attic,” Justin said.

“That was totally justified. With all the big clunky furniture downstairs and all the space just sitting vacant upstairs, no wonder people hire fags over dykes as decorators, it has bad chi, Justin. You don’t want your kid growing up with bad chi do you?” September said.

Tracy came back and hip checked September as she sat and said, “You left me.”

“I didn’t have to actually go, I figured you were done yelling at me and I could leave,” September said.

Justin took a moment to be glad he wasn’t a girl. He ordered a second cheese pot because he felt bad for eating most of it while the girls were in the bathroom. He then asked September, “Is it just that Lindsay is a mom that makes you not like her or something else.”

“I never said I didn’t like her,” September said, and then rolled her eyes and added, “I just don’t buy that syrupy Madonna stuff, ‘oh I didn’t expect to fall in love with this little guy’.” September made a retching noise and said, “makes me want to hurl. It’s all talk, truth is she is already started making what she wants, her selfishness; be what’s best for him. She will do whatever she wants to do and whenever she gets caught or called on it she’ll play that ‘you’re not a mother you don’t understand’. Your kid would be better off with you and Brian.”

“Sep I love him but he’s not my kid, and Lindsay is not crazy. Slightly neurotic, but I think all new mothers are, and she’s not alone. If for any reason she became a danger to Gus, both Mel and Brian would step in, I promise.” Justin said and reached across the table, avoiding the hot grill, to take her hand. Tracy gave him a smile at that. Tracy was the only one of them who knew Sep before and after her mom died and in her own weird way had been there for her though it all. She was Sep’s Daphne, and while she couldn’t read people she got Sep in ways none of the rest of them did.

“Is that guy with the girl checking you out? Tracy said, looking over her shoulder and peeking around the corner of the booth. “That’s pretty uncool.”

“I think that’s less ‘checking me out’ and more ‘warily watching for any sudden moves’ so he can throw himself between us and his dining companion,” Justin said dryly. The abrupt laugh from Drew’s girlfriend let them know that at least she was listening in. “None of us have exactly been hiding our crazy.”

Drew and his date left half way through the chocolate fondue course so missed the brief scuffle for the check. Tracy won by saying Justin worked for his money. Justin did point out that Tracy and September’s fathers worked for their money but that held no water. They all piled into September’s car and she dropped Justin at the loft.

When he entered the loft he dumped his messenger bag and boots at the door. Brian was working at his desk and Justin slipped behind him, bent and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He asked, “What are you getting the munchers for Christmas?”

“I gave them my sperm, what more could they want?” Brian said.

“They’re family, Brian,” Justin said. “I was thinking, Sep talked to HD and he said if there was no plumbing or electricity he could do the attic remodel for under five thousand, and under two if we don’t mind him using scraps and salvage.”

“I though Lindsay was against the idea,” Brian said.

“We’re having brunch tomorrow when we take over Gus’ present. We give them a card with a check for five thousand earmarked for the remodel and an offer to pay the agency fee if they get an Au Pair, then we leave and let Mel and Lindsay fight it out. We both know that Lindsay bored at home and Mel feeling she’s pulling all the financial weight leads to Frogs and infidelity and you having to give up your parental rights.”

“Which won’t happen now due to the custody agreement,” Brian said.

Justin said, “No, that just removed your bargaining chip. If Lindsay gets in the same head space who knows what harebrained scheme she’ll come up with.”

“What happened to letting our friends sink or swim, to not jumping in because we think we know better?” Brian asked.

Justin huffed and kissed Brian’s neck and said, “Our friends yes, Gus, no way. When Gus tells me to back off I will. But until he can talk for himself, I’m keeping his family as safe and healthy as possible.”

“Promise to protect me from angry, angry dykes?” Brian said.

“I live to serve,” Justin said, removing his arms and turning Brian’s chair to face him as he dropped to his knees and started to open Brian’s jeans.

 


	37. Ahh...

The Saturday before Christmas, Justin and Brian rolled out of bed around ten and showered. Brian didn’t even fuss with his hair he just pulled on yesterday’s jeans and a tee shirt. They were at Lindsay and Mel’s door before eleven.

For someone whose time on Earth was measured in weeks, and whose only real skill seemed to be in breaking physics and producing more shit than he took in food, Gus was making out like a bandit for his first Christmas. Lindsay showed them little outfits ranging from three to eighteen months in sizes, given by every dyke in the greater Pittsburgh area and all the guys had sent some sort of small toy, or stuffed animal. Justin brought his digital camera with him and Brian brought Gus some ridiculously expensive set of hypoallergenic, soft-sided, musical blocks.

Lindsay was serving Eggs Benedict and Mimosas, which again to Justin seemed crazy complicated for a new mother to be adding to her already exhausting days; especially when it was just him and Brian. He could understand if there was anyone else but the four of them. Like, for instance, one of Lindsay’s friends who she seemed to be in some sort of a game with of who’s the better mother, hostess, lesbian. Brian was actual polite and didn’t even bitch about the calories and fat in the Hollandaise sauce. They talked mostly about the fundraiser and how well it was going.

Mel had left work early yesterday afternoon and manned the table at Ross Park Mall, relieving Brittney and Monica and said she was surprised that they had straight high school girls volunteering. She’d met Monica’s dad who had hung around the mall doing his Christmas shopping while the girls worked the table. Brian snorted and referred to them as Justin’s Angels and explained they were the girls who baked the bulk of the cookies that were being sold. That was when Justin shared with Brian that the booklet he’d made of the recipes was being printed and sold as well. When Mel relayed some of the preliminary numbers in what had been raised it was much more than had been hoped for so it was worth celebrating, especially since they had the tables open today as well.

Everything was going good; they’d adjourned to the front room for coffee. Lindsay was opening Gus’ present for him and Mel had just come with a plate of cookies she’d purchased from the bake sale. Gus was in a car seat like carrier on the floor and started to fuss and Justin leaned over to check him. Justin said, “I’ve got him,” and started to take him up to the changing table in the nursery since the supplies Lindsay had out when he babysat were not in sight.

“Do you know how to change a diaper?” Mel called after him.

Justin heard Brian said, “Of course he does he’s baby sat him before.” Justin hoped Brian was talking about the other day and not the past fifteen years, since that would make no sense to Mel. He got Gus cleaned up and redressed and came downstairs to a glaring match. Oddly it wasn’t between Mel and Brian but between Mel and Lindsay.

“I just don’t see why you would keep something like that a secret,” Mel said. Lindsay looked uncomfortable and Brian was holding out his hands to have Gus handed to him.

While making the hand off Justin said, “Aren’t the holidays the time for secrets, you don’t look too closely at the weird lump in the bottom of the closet,” Brian muttered, ‘you saw that?’ and Justin continued, “or ask why someone wants you to meet them in ten minutes somewhere other than the store your both in.”

Lindsay had opened the present apparently before they got side tracked with the argument and Brian was shaking one of the musically blocks and trying to keep Gus’ attention. Since they were already fighting Justin pulled a card from his messenger bag and said, “This is from Brian and I, it’s kind of for all three of you.”

“You shouldn’t have-” Lindsay started

Mel said at the same time, “it’s not necessary-”

“Just take it,” Brian said his voice light as it usually was when he was holding Gus but his glare was pure Brian and said ‘stop being fucking dykes’.

Lindsay opened the card and her lips became thin and pale, Mel stepped up and read over her shoulder and said, “Remodel? Au pair agency? What’s this about?”

“Even with your decision not to go back to work, an au pair will give you another set of hands, a chance for some alone time and let you have the freedom to meet for lunch or run to the store without a big production of having to haul Gus with you,” Justin said.

Brian added, “If you finish off the attic, you’ll have another bedroom, so your house value increases and I’ll pay the agency fee. The weekly cost of an au pair is a much less than day care and its one on one attention.”

“Brian, I became a mother because I wanted a child. Gus is not an inconvenience. I can do this. I don’t need help,” Lindsay said.

Brian said, “Of course you can, you can be the perfect mother, the perfect teacher, the perfect hostess and the perfect lover. But you can’t be all of them at the same time. And before you say you choose to be a mother and fuck all the other roles – as the father it’s my job to chime in when that’s not the best thing for my son. You being all things to him will be as bad for him in the long run as it will for you. Are you really planning to use Debbie Novotny as your role model? Are you going to be one of those mothers who calls her thirty year old son three times a day? You need to have a life outside him, to show him how important having a well-balanced life is.”

Mel and Lindsay excused themselves and went into the other room. Ostensibly to clean up, but they could be heard hissing at each other. Mel still seemed angry that Lindsay was keeping secrets. Also it became apparent that this was the first time Mel had been told that Lindsay was thinking of not going back to work. Mel was pointing out that their budget had counted on both their salaries. She said that even without the cost they had budgeted for daycare they might not be able to manage the mortgage without a second income.

The sound of their argument was soon drowned out by the sound of Brian singing softy to his son. Justin had only caught him doing that a couple times in the previous future’s past, usually by baby monitor. Back then Brian would never have revealed how much Gus meant to him to anyone but Gus. Brian looked so young in the rumpled tee shirt with Gus held so very gently as he crooned ‘Red is the Rose’ to his son. If the reset had morphed Justin into a confident, smart mouthed know-it-all; it had tempered Brian’s ‘do anything, say anything, fuck anything’ attitude to that of: know who was important, what was important and wasting neither time nor patience with anything else.

As Mel and Lindsay came back in Lindsay was saying, “Just because some girl thinks I’m a bad mother.”

Brian who had just about got Gus to sleep glared at them both and finished with “Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne but my love is fairer than any.”

Justin said quietly but received instant silence, “September doesn’t think you’re a bad mother Lindsay. She just thinks you’re a mother; and in her mind that makes you dangerous.”

He sat carefully next to Brian and said, “Sep’s the youngest, her older sisters were out of the house when Sep hit puberty at about the same time her mom hit menopause. Her parents’ marriage had been rocky for years, they’d separate and get back together; tried to work it out for the children. But the children were growing up and I guess her mom felt she was losing that hook.” He checked, but Gus seemed to be sleeping deeply so he continued, “Mrs. Dae, she’d gotten pregnant a couple years before she died, but I don’t know, maybe she was too old, she miscarried in the second trimester. So her new method of getting attention when she thought her husband would stray or just run from her neurotic self was to stage elaborate failed suicide attempts.”

“I’m not sure what the first was and neither is Sep, ‘cause her dad covered it up, but the second was a bunch of pills and alcohol where she had September call 911. She could have called herself but it’s so much more touching if it’s done by your kid, right?” Justin said. “That one got them back into marriage counseling and he dropped the divorce suit.”

“Anyway, the last time, she did it; Sep had spent the night at Tracy’s and called to see if she could stay another night. He dad was away on business and she didn’t want to be home with her mother who used her as a sounding board or captive audience when she revisited every wrong her dad had committed since they started dating sophomore year in high school.” Justin said.

Mel covered her mouth and said, “Tell me she didn’t.”

“Her mom said no and came to pick her up, dragged her home and when Sep was doing the sullen anger tweenie routine, slamming the car door and stomping into the house her mother said that she wanted them to have a girls’ night and that they would make dinner together and watch some movies. She gave Sep very specific instructions to go upstairs and take a shower while her mother would put the car away and that Sep should come right down after and start cooking with her mom. Sep ignored her, drew a bath, put on some music and cracked open a new book in the ‘Heralds of Valdemar’ series she used to like, but understandably doesn’t read anymore. September left her phone on her bed with her clothes and dove into both the book and the bath, when September reads nothing else exists. So when her mom texted her with how sorry she was and how much she loved her, Sep missed her cue, she didn’t run downstairs or call 911 or anything, she just kept reading.”

“Dear God,” Lindsay said, “She killed herself; when she was alone in the house with her child? I can’t-” Mel took her hand.

“To this day September doesn’t call it suicide, its ‘Mom’s accident’, because September believes and has convinced me that her mother was crazy but not suicidal. Her mom miscalculated, set the stage, arranged the script, but forgot not everyone follows direction.”

Justin signed and continued, “September says, her mother hid her narcissistic tendencies behind this image of a perfect mom. When she demanded Sep come home in her mind it wasn’t because she was alone and needed an audience nor was she forcing her daughter to be her confidant or take an adult role in deciding who was right or wrong or even to blame for her parents’ marital problems; her reason was she loved her daughter and wanted to spend time with her. To Mrs. Dae, her home was the stage and she needed Sep to read her lines and play her part. Even forcing her into playing roles in her death dramas in her mom’s mind was letting September save her, be the hero. Her mother didn’t think of it as using her kid as a prop in an elaborate play or deceit, she thought this was good for her daughter it would make them closer, bring September to her poor mother’s side.”

“Sep’s room was over the garage and the house was built before vapor locks were as advanced.” Justin said. “If her father hadn’t caught an earlier flight, hadn’t heard music from Sep’s room when he thought the house was empty; Sep would never have gotten to emergency services in time. She would have been as dead as her mother. Her dad didn’t even realize her mom was in the garage until the paramedics said Sep was unconscious due to carbon monoxide, that’s how they found her mom.”

“I think Sep knew her mother was reckless and dangerous and not just bitchy and bitter. Her dad said that her last au pair didn’t want to leave and even though September was too old to need a new au pair the last girl begged him to get someone in the house. But her mom used the ‘I’m her mother I know best she needs me this is a delicate time in a girl’s life’ and lots of other shit.” Justin shook his head and continued, “September is right, her mother was just selfish. She used her kid as a way to do what she wanted, and then scapegoated her as the reason she did stuff.”

“We all know you’re not like that Lindsay and if something physically happened to you, if you developed a chemical imbalance you’d get help,” Justin said. He was coming to terms with being trapped in a seventeen year old body. Justin figured if he had to put up with everyone thinking he was too young to do everything; since he couldn’t change it except to age out, he might as well use it. Use his harmless appearance and let them assume he had no experience in playing people. Keying in to his WASPy manipulation skills he would deflect the blame from Brian and himself on to someone stranger they would have little contact with. If it would calm them down and let them see reason, September would approve and play along if need be. “I love her but September’s sneaky she presented this as something you wanted or even needed to save your and Mel’s relationship; Brian wouldn’t have been pushing it otherwise.”

“And I only offered to pay to remodel the attic and the agency fee. You’d still be paying the stipend, which is cheaper than day care with the added bonus of keeping Gus away from all those little biological weapons. Children pass around diseases worse than fags,” Brian said. “Whether you chose to go back to work or not that gives you forty five hours of child care a week for a fraction of the cost of day care, and it’s when you need it not on some crèches’ schedule. This way if you don’t want to go back to work full time you could still either work part time or start a business from home and have someone on hand to do the dirty work.”

“Business from home?” Lindsay said. “Like what?”

“You’ve been working as my agent, sure I picked you because I know you won’t push me to do something stupid like move to New York City, but you like nurturing talent, that’s why you’re a good teacher, you have a good eye, and you know the industry. Look for some other artists you’d like to represent, there are lots of artists looking for management but they also have jobs and families, which you can relate to - there’s your niche market.” Justin said.

Brian added, “Other than gallery events, which you like to go to anyway. You should be able to make your own hours. But having someone here with you so you can run an errand when needed to or take someone to lunch would be a necessity.”

“Who’s going to want their daughter staying with a couple of lesbians,” Mel asked.

“Request a guy, be upfront say you want to avoid the appearance of impropriety,” Justin said. “I know a lot of families at the club avoided au pairs because the wife thinks that their husband would bang the girl, if you get a male au pair that should take the weight off both your minds,” mentally crossing his fingers hoping that Lindsay’s weird taste in men didn’t kick in. He could have understood her sleeping with Brian, if Brian were so inclined, but the guy she had cheated on Mel with had been old and really hairy.

Brian suggested they get some bids on the attic and Lindsay asked about the man September recommended.

“Really hot tall guy?” Brian asked, “think he’s more my type than yours.”

“He’s straight,” Justin said.

Brian said, “No, he’s not.”

“Did you have sex with him?” Justin asked.

“No,” Brian said.

“Straight.” Justin said in a sing song voice.

Mel said, “His ego does not need you equating men not having sex with him to be proof of heterosexuality.”

“I didn’t even try, he’s one of Justin’s fag hags’ families, I didn’t make passes at their dads either and I think Bob’s bi.” Brian said.

“You’re gaydar’s faulty,” Justin said.

Brian said, “you can’t base it on his fashion sense, Christ have you seen some of the shit Emmett wears, you wouldn’t call him straight would you?”

They had been having this argument/foreplay since HD had shown up to drop off the tables. HD didn’t have the gym body of a gay man he had the body of someone who worked tirelessly knocking down walls and jackhammering cement floors and moving heavy building supplies from one place to another. Brian had told Justin that when he rolled open the door to see him and was greeted with a deep ‘where do you want it’ he hadn’t even realized the man was holding a six foot folded table under one arm like it was weighted no more than a football. And when he made two more trips hauling the other up the stairs, Brian asked why he didn’t use the elevator he’d just shrugged and said it was faster this way. Justin and Sep had returned to find HD and Brian drinking beer and talking about loft conversions and fluctuating property values in various neighborhoods while seated at the kitchen island.

He’d greeted September with, ‘Are you still here?’ before picking her up, literally, and taking her with him.

Justin promised to email Mel, with HD’s contact information and Mel updated him on the work she was doing for him. They had official statements from all ten students and from Justin’s father regarding the school contacting him. The school’s lawyer was declining to permit any employee to file a statement outside of a court of law. It had taken a court order to get his principal to provide a written statement of why Justin was suspended and the dates.

The first statement he provided was that Justin was belligerent and refused to comply with the administration. Mel had contacted Mr. Hunt and stated she would need more details about what prompted him to have a seventeen year old alone in his office and with what exactly the student refuse to comply. She must have made it sound rather salacious because he immediately said Justin had been sent by a staff member for fighting. Being a lawyer she suggested he check with his attorney because his current statement omitted the staff’s accusation and since he wasn’t saying he was there for fighting the statement he sent over in writing was open to misinterpretation should the matter go to court. The second one stated that Mr. Dixon had witnessed a fight, contradicting all ten other witnesses, and Justin was suspended under the schools zero tolerance policy. Dixon was not permitted to make a statement of his own.

Justin was hoping that finding out he was serious and covering himself would be enough to get them to go back to ignoring him. Mel said, she would email him all the details on the board members and schools financial record they had found after the holiday. They hadn’t used up all the hours he’d paid for but he told her to keep in on file, at least until after he graduated. It might have been easier to just get an equivalency and start taking college classes and if his only friend still had been Daphne he might have. But the lesson he’d promised himself he would learn was not to get so caught up in where he was going that he didn’t enjoy the now. He’d wasted so much time looking forward to the next weekend, the next vacation, the next excuse to see Brian. Once they graduated the girls would scatter and so despite being inundated with hormonal teens he was going to enjoy what was left of his high school days.

Lindsay suggested two of them stay a while, but she also suggested they watch ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’ and brandished the DVD, so talk about mixed messages. It was possible this was kept specific to drive off gay men, like garlic to vampires. The look Brian shot her was similar to if she had suggested they all practice dental surgery on each other. Mel laughed so hard she passed coffee through her nose. Once they were sure Mel wasn’t in danger of dying, they made their goodbyes and drove back to the loft, puttered around, smoked some weed and had sex on the Corbusier before taking a nap. That night Brian gave an early Christmas gift to gay Pittsburgh by wearing the new black leather pants to Babylon. He’d even let Justin take some pictures as long as he promised not to photoshop in a Santa’s hat and send them as e-Christmas cards.

Ted was home with Blake but Emmett was there with bells on, literally, he had bells everywhere – some with flashing lights. Justin dragged him out onto the dance floor while Brian danced with Michael and Emmett almost drowned out the ‘thumpa, thumpa’ with all the jingling. Dr. Dave showed up and cut in on Brian and Michael, but froze when he realized he would have to retract his statement about Brian being too skinny to wear leather.

After a couple of hours they were heading to the diner, minus Emmett who went home with a trick. The four of them got a booth and Debbie was on shift. They each placed orders and were talking about nothing in particular when Deb stopped by for an update on their lives. She was being her normal self when Justin realized this was the first she had met Dave. After calming down a bit she gleefully went off to get their food, and spread the news her son was dating a doctor. 

While Michael was still recovering from his mom embarrassing him with her enthusiasm, two men who looked to be together walked by and slipped Brian a card with a number on it. He glanced at it, took a look over his shoulder at them and then looked at Justin and raised an eyebrow. Justin turned and looked at them and realized that they were a long time couple who he and Brian had occasionally hooked up with over the years but hadn’t met yet since restarting. He gave Brian a brilliant smile and Brian handed him the card, which he shoved into the pocket of his jeans.

“Wait! What was that?” Michael said.

Brian looked confused and then said sarcastically, “Really? If you have to ask you’re doing it wrong. That’s called cruising.”

“Why did you give the number to Justin?” Michael asked.

Justin smiled and winked at Dave, “There’s no more room in his pants, Michael. They’ve reached critical mass, adding that card may have made them explode.”

Debbie, who had come back with their food chimed in, “You asshole, you better not be tricking with that kid.”

“Because you’d rather I hook up with strange, possibly dangerous men without, Brian?” Justin asked. “Not that it’s any of your business who I fuck but I’m always curious; exactly how should I hook up and still keep hostile straight people off my back?”

“I’m not hostile,” Debbie said. “And you, I thought you were with Brian.”

“Forgive me,” Justin said, “but in the culture I grew up in calling someone an asshole is hostile. Are you telling me you mean it as a term of endearment? Like the way you frequently hit your son in the head to express affection?”

“Hey, leave me out of this,” Michael said.

Brian said to Michael, “You started it. Why do you care if Justin and I trick together?”

“Because he’s a decent human being,” Debbie said as she put their orders down on the table.

Justin muttered, “Or a judgmental prick.”

“I think he just means that you appear to be in a relationship,” Dave said.

“We are,” Brian and Justin said together.

“We’re in a healthy relationship,” Justin said. “Brian isn’t lying to me and saying I am the only one he wants, so I’ll stay with him and then slipping off to the baths when I think he’s at work.”

Brian said, “Justin doesn’t manipulated me into being monogamous with him and then tap someone behind my back.”

“Sure if I had the choice between having sex with Brian and any other man I’m choosing him. But I am at my sexual peak, maybe when I’m fifty and need Viagra monogamy will be more appealing, now it just seems like we’d be doing it to control each other and that’s not healthy,” Justin said.

Debbie huffed and stomped away. Justin regretted the loss of closeness this time through but having Debbie love you came with a price. He’d lost count of the number of times she would emasculate Vic and crush his pride by loudly proclaiming, usually in public, how she wiped his butt while he was sick. She would do the same to Michael; she loudly loved her gay son but just as vehemently forced her opinions on him and when he didn’t want to do what she wanted him to do, she would say he owed her for all she did for him while she was raising him.

Justin had been pulled into that when he lived with her. He owed her and she never let him forget it. He’d been very grateful at first but in his mind, it was no more than emotional loan sharking. The debt, any debt owed to Debbie was never paid. You were obligated to agree with her and let her push into your life because you owed her. The one thing he had liked about living in New York was she couldn’t just pop over and poke into his privacy like she could Michael and Brian.

Maybe it was his WASP upbringing but such debts were never spoken of, it was crass. There was an understood obligation to people who helped you, but to mention that someone owed you for emotional support would usually negated the obligation. Justin probably owed Brian more than any single person who had touched his life, even his parents. Brian never acknowledged that Justin owed him. Justin had never heard Brian put the screws to Ted, the way Debbie did Vic and Michael. Brian had given Ted the means to lift himself up from the bottom to a six figure salary almost overnight. Brian had more than paid back Debbie for the limited help she gave him as a teen.

While Justin wouldn’t change Brian for the world he did wish someone had gotten him out of his family’s house officially. To Justin, by knowing that a kid was being abused and not reporting it seemed as if Deb was complicit. She was in a sense helping to cover up a crime. But using this knowledge, against that child when they became an adult, repeatedly bringing up aid that simple human kindness should have warranted as a debt to be paid and repaid, in this case she had more power to hurt Brian than his parents had. Ironically if Justin had pointed any of this out, Brian would be Debbie’s staunchest defender. While Brian had finally shaken off Saint Joan’s power over him, he’d never escaped Debbie’s, even after she died.

Brian was always aware of the debts he owed Debbie, Michael and Vic for sharing their family. Of the three of them only Debbie would constantly use it as leverage. Michael might carp on about the ‘you’re my best friend’ issue but he never said Brian owed him for giving him a place to hide from his father. Vic wasn’t even there for most of it. But Debbie was, and if she was so concerned about an emancipated minor tricking why the hell hadn’t she stepped in and gotten Brian out of the house as soon as she knew he was being abused. And since she always had her nose in everyone’s sex lives why hadn’t she been this protective of a teenaged Brian servicing his coach? While Brian had had the athletic prowess to receive a full ride scholarship for soccer, lots of kids were good, but that coach had made sure the right recruiters saw Brian. The coach had never gone to that kind of effort for players who weren’t routinely sucking him off. So even if Michael had kept his mouth shut, which he might have with anyone but Debbie, how had she not stepped in during the four years of high school, it if not regarding the coach, in how bad it got with Brian’s Dad?

The conversation was sparse as they finished their food. Justin got the impression they were at one of those moral crossroads. David was putting off the superior ‘married people’ vibes, similar to how Michael had gotten when he and Ben became gentrified.

Michael wasn’t quite at that stage yet; he was making noises about going back to the club and the night still being young. Brian spoke up, “not us - gotta have brunch with the family tomorrow.”

“You’re going home?” Michael asked incredulously.

Brian snorted and said, “Fuck no that would be horrific. Grandmother Corcoran,” and nodded at Justin.

“What about you, David?” Justin asked, “Planning on video conferencing online with your son this weekend?”

“I don’t actually have that,” he said.

Justin asked, “Really? I would think it would be ideal for you, if both of you have webcams; you can talk face–to-face. I already have it set up with friends I want to keep in touch with when we’re at different schools.”

David said, “I don’t know much about it.”

“My dad sells electronic, the cameras are a bit pricey but so are plane tickets, you can buy separate ones, and mail him one,” Justin said, “then when he gets it call your son, he should be able to walk you through the installation and setup.”

“You’ve never met my son,” David said, “what makes you think he can do that?”

Justin laughed and said, “I’ve never met your parents either but I bet you could have walked them though programing a VCR when they first came out.”

Later when they were back at the loft, brushing teeth and stripping off clothes, Brian said. “You know we don’t actually have plans for Christmas Day. I picked up some DVDs and I figured we’d order in, the Thai place is open that day.”

“Been a few years since we had dinner Debs, you must have been looking forward to it, especially while Vic’s still here,” Justin said. “I’m sorry she’s so upset with you, and I know I’m not making it easier by-”

“Expecting her to respect you?” Brian said, “You have nothing to apologize for. I realize you cut her a lot of slack over the years and let her get away with things you would not have let anyone else, because you owed her for brining Jennifer around and for letting you stay and for being a friend.”

“Brian, you shouldn’t owe people for being a friend.” Justin said, “Any more than you should think people owe you for being their friend. But I’m really tired of being called ‘the kid’. And you would think knowing you for so long; she would give you the benefit of the doubt. As you pointed out the difference in our ages are less than Michael and David and she’s gushing over them.”

“To the rest of the world you are a kid, time will fix that, but for now you’re seventeen and to most people being right doesn’t hold as much weight as time and experience,” Brian said, “and I’ve always been the bad one, the one who got Mikey drunk and snuck him into clubs, Mikey would still be a virgin if not for Brian, you know the drill.”

“If that’s what she has to tell herself, I guess,” Justin said, “might be nice to hang out for the day, you and me, no one opening the door and cockblocking.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Brian said laughing.

 


	38. But listen closely...

Christmas Eve fell on Sunday so both Brian and Justin dressed a little nicer than normal for brunch. No suits or ties but nicer sweaters and cleaner shaves than an average Sunday. Justin was planning to use Elizabeth as a drop off point for presents for his parents and Molly. He’d already sent the gift basket but had picked up a DVD online that was a puff piece, in Spanish with subtitles, of Ricky Martin’s career so far; and settled on a leather belt for his dad – Justin just hoped Prada passed the heterosexuality test. Brian had ordered a bouquet of amaryllis and they picked it up on the way to Redstone.        

The dining hall was full to the point of bursting. Justin left all but Elizabeth’s gift in the car. Well he had the small recipe booklet for Bertie, with a blue bow on it but it really wasn’t a gift. Normally people were spread out, often when they had brunch with Bertie and Elizabeth there were empty tables all over. Although the social butterfly’s like Stella and Elizabeth’s posse congregated together the dining hall itself was larger than most hotel banquet rooms and a wall between it and an adjoining room had been folded back into the wall making it larger and it was still filled with people. Families from out of town and even locals who rarely visited were stopping into see grandparents.

As they made their way across the dining hall, easier said than done as the regular Sunday crowd kept stopping Justin and Brian to meet their children and grandchildren, Justin noticed that Elizabeth was at her regular table but there was quite a crowd there already. Not only were Molly and his parent there but his Uncle Will and his wife Carol and their daughter, Babs. Bertie was there, thank God and smiled and waved as they approached.

Brian gave Elizabeth the bouquet and kissed her cheek. Justin finished hugging Molly who had run to him as they approached and followed suit. The tables could easily seat twelve so the ten of them were fine. But Justin thought this might be more than Brian had counted on and tried to gage his emotions. An attendant came to take Elizabeth’s flowers and put them in water.

“Is that present for me?” Molly asked.

Jennifer said, “Molly! Justin already sent you enough chocolate to last until Easter.”

“This is for Grandmother, but I might have something for you in the car, make sure I don’t let you go home without it,” Justin said as he hugged his mom and awkwardly shook his father’s hand, before greeting his uncle’s family. His aunt was eyeing Brian with ill-disguised curiosity so he introduced him and they took the seats near Bertie, since the rest of his family was showing surprise at Bertie being there.

While his mom made polite inquiries into her brother’s family’s lives Justin gave Bertie the recipe book and updated him on how the fundraiser had gone, and how much they’d made. Bertie said that the hamantaschen Justin had dropped off, with the cookies that Brian had exiled from the loft, were even better than Stella’s but then baking hadn’t been one of Stella’s talents.

Justin’s uncle lived just out passed the airport in Robinson Township, but his uncle was one of those people; the ones who acted like you had to pack a suit case if you were going through a tunnel. Sure that particular fifteen miles could take over an hour during rush hour, even outside of construction season, but as far as Justin could tell he visited grandmother on Christmas and Mother’s Day, and the rest of the year it was too far to come. Now Aunt Aileen who lived in Arizona could use that excuse but Will was just lazy or weird.

Babs was at that awful age between Justin and Molly. Too old to get away with acting like a kid but too young to be allowed to do anything; she currently seemed to be trying to decide between making eyes at Brian or at him. The last time he’s seen her had been at Mother’s Day and she’d spent the whole time looking at him and giggling. He’d told her then that Pennsylvania wasn’t one of those states, but she hadn’t got it.

His uncle had sat next to Elizabeth, and Brian was between Bertie and Justin, Molly sat next to Justin and then his mother and his father, Babs was between her mom and dad so mother and Aunt Carol were talking across his father as they tried to out not-bragged each other about their children. Bertie had ordered newspapers from San Francisco, ‘The San Francisco Chronical’ was not as much of a hatchet job as Justin expected. The man who had sneered at the girls had written that while the exhibit showcased an undesirable life style it was historically accurate and ‘mostly harmless’. ‘The San Francisco Bay Times’ was gushing and had a candid shot of Justin and Brian chatting with Tony and Jill, but Justin had expected them to love him, not just because he made their journalist tear up but because they were an LGBT focused weekly that would have been won over before even seeing the show. What he wasn’t prepared for was that ‘The Monetary County Herald’ had done a full eight page spread in their Sunday Arts and Entertainment section. Even Pittsburgh hadn’t done that and it was a hometown exhibit.

“You met Tony Curtis?” Elizabeth exclaimed, apparently his uncle’s family had shown up before she got a chance to see the picture.

Justin said, “You know his work? He has a painting in the Met; I really want to see it. Brian and I might take a weekend in January to go New York. But, I didn’t think you even liked surrealism.”

“Honey,” his mother said, “he’s not a painter.”

“Yes he is. Brian? Tell them,” Justin said.

Brian smirked and said, “Tony paints, he’s sold works for over $25,000 and has them hung in some of the best private collections.” And then he added, “And Justin thinks that ‘Dirty Dancing’ is an old movie.’”

Babs, bless her disturbed little heart, said, “‘Dirty Dancing’ is an old movie.”

So everyone laughed at Justin and Bertie needed a hit of oxygen and Justin found out Tony did other things beside paint and marry much younger women.              

After the staff cleared the plates but before they brought out coffee and Christmas Eve cheese cake, Justin’s Uncle Will figured out that Brian, who had been introduced by name but not affiliation, was with Justin and not family of Bertie.

“You’re okay with this?” he said loudly to Justin’s parents.

Elizabeth looked like she was going to hit her son partly to protect Justin but Justin also figured there was about sixty five percent of her anger resulting from him making a scene in front of her whole community.

“William, lower your voice. And if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything,” Elizabeth said quietly but sharply.

Babs was crushed and confused, “He’s your boyfriend?”

Brian and Justin looked at each other, it was a term that never worked for them but lovers would set off the whole table and partner might confuse her so Justin said, “He’s mine. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“And you’re his?” she asked.

“Yes.” Brian and he said together.

“Okay,” she said, and for her that was it.

Not so much for her parents. Aunt Carol looked like she wanted to throw cutlery at Justin for him even daring to speak with her child and Uncle Will looked like he couldn’t decide who he was more disgusted with Justin for being gay or Craig for apparently letting him. His family’s conversation was reduced to stilled formality as the cheesecake was served.

Brian and Bertie started talking about Children’s Hospital, Bertie was on the board and there was a debate raging on renovation verse building a new hospital. Either would take massive amounts of funds, but if they built new, from the ground up, they would have to find a site. That in itself involved buying out the occupants and the various neighborhoods both vying for and protesting against and would take forever. It would be ten years before ground broke and given that more and more changes had been made in the time line, it might not be the same place, but Brian said he thought a new building would allow not only all the latest medical innovation but the upgrades in construction technology could be used.

Brian, as far as Justin knew, had never had a real mentor. The coach who had had sex with him at fourteen certainly didn’t count. In college he’d had the pressure of trying to get a real education as a student athlete and keep the school’s athletic department happy. In business, he had polished away his own blue collar rough edges and in the cut throat world of advertising had used the masks and skills at hiding weakness he’d developed with his father. But Bertie had no power over Brian, he wasn’t a boss, or a teacher, or a coach, he respected Brian and because of that Brian listened to him. Some of it had to do with Bertie being self-made and even though Brian was fifteen years older than he appeared, Bertie had a life of experience and could talk to Brian without the cuts and digs he got from his father. It was also obvious that Bertie really liked Brian, not what Brian could do for him. Elizabeth had told Justin that Bertie had said Brian was a nice young man and that if she would only give it time that the age difference wouldn’t matter.

After the dessert had been consumed, Will Corcoran asked to speak with Elizabeth – privately.

“Darling, its Christmas everyone is having a nice time, can’t we do this some other time,” Elizabeth said.

Will said, “Mother we don’t get in to town often, you know that.”

“Did you move?” Justin asked, looking from his aunt to his uncle, “I thought you were in Robinson, isn’t that like, fifteen miles?”

“We don’t come into the city,” his aunt said, “It’s filled with- ”and she cut off with a look of distaste.

“Fags?” Brian asked.

“Undesirables,” was Carol’s frosty reply.

“Ah, Niggers, Kikes, Spiks, Dykes and Fags, I get it,” Brian said, and looked at Justin and asked, “Should I have added, Micks, Wops and Gooks, I’m still learning WASP culture?”

Jennifer looked like she wanted to slap her hands over Molly’s ears; Babs looked like she’d cracked the code for pay-per-view and Bertie needed oxygen again. Oddly Craig, who had long bitched about Carol’s pretentiousness and Will’s treating Jennifer as if she’d married down, seemed to be biting his lip not to at least chuckle at the frozen outrage on Carol’s face.

“Mother,” Will said, dismissing them all, “I have some concerns, it will only take a few minutes, please.”

“It’s a holiday, William,” Elizabeth said, “either say it here or come back after New Year’s.”

“Why so long,” he asked.

“I’m booked. It’s the social season; I’m not sitting around waiting for my children to have time for me. I have a life,” Elizabeth said.

“Mother, Steve Hanson said you’ve changed accountants,” Will said. “That’s not like you; Steve has been Dad’s accountant for thirty years.”

“You’re father has been dead for the last fifteen years of that, so he hasn’t. He was your father’s accountant for fifteen years and should have been mine for the past fifteen years,” Elizabeth said. “I now have an accountant who works for me.”

“I’m actually looking for an accountant,” Justin said, trying to change the subject.

Carol said, “What would you need an accountant for?”

“My most immediate needs are taxes, but I should probably diversify my portfolio; before I do that I’ll need help calculating my long term verses short term cash flow requirements,” Justin said.

“Mother, why would you change accountants?” Will persisted.

Elizabeth looked uncomfortable and didn’t say anything so Justin said, “Well, off the top of my head I’d switch accountants if he was discussing my business with others, why would this person feel the need to tell you Grandmother’s private business?”

“This is none of your business you little fag,” Will said.

Craig said, “it’s none of yours either, Will, unless you get a judge to appoint you Elizabeth’s guardian.”

“Shut up Craig, stay out of this, this is a family matter, our family,” Will said.

“William, settle down, and for heaven sake lower your voice,” Elizabeth said. “Craig is family, just as much as Carol, and Justin’s point is why I changed accountants. Hanson worked for me, not you or your father; he was billing me but checking with you. You and your sisters have received all the your bequeaths from your father’s estate. Hanson was treating it as if it was still your father’s money and as if you were my guardian without any paperwork to back it up.”

“Dad left specific instructions-,” Will started.

“William, you do realize that marrying a woman doesn’t make her part of your estate to be left to someone like a pocket watch?” Elizabeth asked.

“Mother, I don’t know who you’ve been talking to but if someone is influencing you to make changes, maybe I do need to step in,” Will started again, “Hanson said you’ve changed banks and lawyers as well.”

Elizabeth’s voice cracked out, “How dare you! You just try it young man and you’ll be surprised how many skeletons I rattle out of your closet.”

“If you need a civil rights lawyer,” Brian volunteered, “I know a really angry dyke who would love to take this case.”

“Thank you, dear,” Elizabeth said, “William, I am an adult. I will make my own decisions until God takes me from this world. Don’t make me have to fight you on this. I will not do business with an accountant or a lawyer who does not respect me as a person. The fact that Hanson came running to you should tell you that your father let friendships at the club guide his judgement. Ethical people do not break confidence with their clients. And I am more than a little disappointed in how poorly you’ve behaved. If this wasn’t important enough to make a half an hour trip to discuss it, it certainly wasn’t important enough to disrupt a family gathering. I haven’t seen dear Barbara since Mother’s Day. It’s also rather embarrassing that you can’t be bothered to visit at Christmas time when you don’t have financial concerns.”

“I told you we went to see Carol’s family last year,” Will said.

Elizabeth said, “Yes and of course you couldn’t have brought Barbara to visit before or after that visit, we all know the tunnel closes except on Christmas, Mother’s Day and my birthday.”

“Mother I think it’s telling that Jennifer’s fag son is here all the time bending your ear and suddenly you start making sweeping financial changes,” Will said.

“Fuck you, Uncle Will, I made over six figures this year, how much did you make, not counting your trust fund?” Justin said.

Will sneered, “That’s your sugar daddy’s money you freak.”

“While I also made six figures,” Brian drawled, “he’s talking about what his lithographs made.” Giving a deceptively calm shrug Brian added to Bertie, “Fags, even if you hate them you have to love what all that disposable income does for property values.”

Elizabeth said, “Brian, I apologize. He wasn’t raised to be so hateful.”

“Think nothing of it Lizzy,” Brian said, “Hell, if he takes a swing at me it’ll be just like going home to mom and dad.”

Jennifer looked sharply at Brian at that statement and Molly leaned in to Justin and whispered, “Do Brian’s parents hit him?”

“Brian doesn’t see his parents anymore,” Justin whispered back, aware his mom was listing.

“Did they,” Molly asked, “did they throw him away, too?”

“Molly, I didn’t get thrown away, and no one is going to throw you away,” Justin said, “we just decided it was better that I not live at home anymore. There’s less yelling, right?”

“Sometimes I miss you,” she said.

“Me too, Stain,” Justin said, “You know you can call me, right? And if mom says it’s okay I can come get you and we can visit Grandmother together?”

While he and his sister were talking the conversation between his uncle and grandmother was ended if not resolved. Justin figured Brian would give him the highlights if needed. Will ushered his wife and child out of the dining hall. Elizabeth was now apologizing to Bertie for her family’s behavior and Bertie indicated it was just like his children, they all thought what was his was theirs and they were just letting him use it until he died.

Bertie looked at Brian and said, “Set up a trust, but never let that son of yours get ahold of your finances.”

“Brian’s leaving everything to Prada,” Justin teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“You have a kid?” Molly asked at the same time, and Craig looked shocked, “how come he’s not here?”

“He’s with his moms,” Brian said, “he’s still pretty small so he doesn’t go out much yet.”

“How many moms does he have?” she asked.

“Just two,” Brian said; very much reminding Justin of how he used to talk to Jenny.

Molly thought about it and asked, “How many dads?”

“Just me,” Brian said.

“You’re pretty young to be a dad,” Molly said, and with that probably became Brian’s favorite Taylor, including Justin.

They had another round of coffee but Molly was well past her limit on how long she could sit still. While Brian stayed and chatted with Bertie and Elizabeth, Justin took the keys and walked out with his family since Molly remembered to remind him about her present.

Molly walked with him to the jeep while his mom and dad went to get the car and pull it a round. “Okay, Stain, I have a mission for you,” Justin said.

“What mission? What’s in it for me?” Molly asked.

Justin said, “Christmas courier and five bucks.”

“What do I have to do?” she asked.

Justin opened the door to the back seat and pulled out the Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bag that had all three presents in it and said, “You have to take this bag and wait to give out the presents until your home, think you can do it?”

“When do I get the money?” she asked.

Justin gave her a five and the bag, Molly saluted him and almost ran out into the parking lot but Justin grabbed her before she could get run over by their dad. “Did I forget to mention that you must survive the mission?” Justin said.

Molly giggled and climbed into the back seat with the shopping bag. The passenger side of the car was facing him and Jennifer stepped out to give him another hug. When she saw the bag Molly had she said, “Oh, honey, you sent her that big basket this is too much.”

“Mom, it’s Christmas, remember what you always told me, just say thank you, even if you don’t like it,” Justin said.

“You’re spoiling her,” she said.

Justin shrugged and said, “I think we all forget how hard this has been on her. Have a Merry Christmas; I’m glad we got to see each other. You too, Dad,” he added through the open door. Craig and Molly both responded with ‘Merry Christmases’ of their own and Jennifer got back in and they drove away.

When he went back inside, the dining area was empting out the staff was clearing tables but left up the extra ones and were replacing linens and setting them for dinner, since some families would visit later. Brian, Bertie and Elizabeth, had adjourned to her favorite parlor, they were near the fire and the lilies Brian had brought her were on a side table near her arm chair. She had the still wrapped present waiting when Justin joined them. After opening it she gushed over the robe and wanted details about their trip. Justin told them about the museums they had toured in addition to the MOMA, the shopping and dining, and said it really wasn’t a place for a three day trip, not when two of them involved crossing the country.

Most places had closed earlier for Christmas Eve by the time Brian and Justin left. The streets weren’t deserted by traffic was sparse in the nonresidential areas. As they approached the area in and around the gay district more places were open, and would be open on Christmas. Woody’s was going to be open Christmas day; with a buffet set up. Many in the LGBT community were estranged from family and seemed to take in strays or host their own found families, but there were always places open to gather in for those who were alone, either having outlived their circle of friends or just not wanting to feel like an outsider in other peoples families.

Emmett had shared with Justin how his first Christmas in Pittsburgh, Godiva had put him to work helping set up such an event at a dyke bar in Sharpsburg. Godiva had performed and kept Emmett far too busy playing host to her hostess to have time to be depressed for his first Christmas away from family. Emmett was directing Christmas at Liberty House this year and Justin wondered if Brian would be willing to swing by for a visit. Ted had whisked Blake off to Nemacolin Woodlands for tonight and tomorrow night, and if Michael was with family or David or both, he didn’t like the idea that Emmett might get down.

Brian had rented an impressive pile of DVDs in preparation for a day at home. When they finally came back to the Loft, Justin had sorted through the titles: ‘Houdini’; ‘The Black Shield of Falworth’; ‘Trapeze’; ‘Some Like it Hot’; ‘Spartacus’; ‘The Great Impostor’ and ‘The Boston Strangler’ and figured even if his family hadn’t made fun of him Brian would have used these to bring home his point.

While Brian changed into a pair of soft battered jeans and ordered food, Justin mixed up batter for crepes for tomorrow and put the whole blender jar with the batter in the fridge. Justin only had to pull off his sweater since he had a comfortable tee shirt on under it before joining Brian on the couch.

After a brief debate over if they should watch the movies from earliest to latest and watch as Tony became a better actor, or latest to earliest and watch Tony get younger, they popped in ‘The Boston Strangler’. True crime had never appealed to Justin but it was interesting to see someone you’d met on screen, not like a home video but being a whole different person. Brian and he ended up making out on the couch while it played. They hadn’t made out, with their clothes on like this since Michael’s long torturous slide show after his trip to Paris.

“You know, I’m really looking forward to having you all to myself tomorrow,” Justin said.

Brian smiled and said, “Shhh, don’t jinx it.”


	39. Not for very much longer...

 

Christmas day, with Brian; thinking back to that awful night when Justin had went to sleep in this empty loft so full of memories and deep regrets that he’d wasted so much of their time together; Justin knew he’d been given so much more than he deserved. This second chance, this extra time; who didn’t want more time when they lost someone they loved; especially around the holidays. Watching Brian as he dozed next to him this second chance was apparently good for both of them. Even when he was awake Brian smiled more readily, his eyes were less haunted and in general he wasn’t nearly as hard on himself. Seeing him sharing so openly with Bertie; his ideas, his plans, it was hard to believe Brian was the same man who played so many things close to the vest.

Of course part of the reason Brian probably looked so relax now was they had only been out of bed today to relieve themselves. The two of them had spent their morning one-upping each other in a pillow fight that turned into wrestling that had turned into, well what it always turned into when they were naked and rubbing up against each other. Brian looked so much younger than Justin had ever remembered him. Part of it was that the first time, Justin had been crazy young and Brian seemed so worldly and now at least physically he was younger than Justin had been before being granted his second chance. Brian had been nearly forty before when he’d finally kicked smoking, mostly for Gus’ benefit. This time he’d done it, at least mostly, sometime in the nine month before they reconnected. He still had the nicotine gum, to keep him from killing people and still smoked weed but he’d ditched cigarettes. Ironically only Emmett seemed to have noticed that change to Brian’s lifestyle. But there were already noticeable changes in his skin and hair from stopping.

Reluctantly Justin dragged his eyes away from Brian’s sprawled form. He slipped out of bed and padded naked out to the kitchen. He started to make, well it was too late for brunch, it might even be too late for lunch; between catching up on sleep and sex the morning had been lost. Using the batter he’d made the night before, Justin quickly made it all into crepes. Justin then minced green peppers, onions and sundried tomatoes before quickly heating them up the same pan. He stuffed about half the crepes and left the rest to cool on the kitchen island. Splitting the ones he’d filled between two plates he added some melon slices and set the table with guava juice and fresh coffee; before going to wake Brian.

Brian must have woken and heard him coming because when Justin leaned over he was pulled down and rolled under him. Brian grinned down before swooping in to rub his facial scruff against Justin’s neck. In between his laughter Justin said, “Your food’s getting cold.”

“Getting pretty damn domestic are you?” Brian said.

Justin bucked up under him and said, “I like to eat. And you wait until New Years, we are both taking control of our diets. Do you think it’s too early to get you a heart scan?”

“Let’s kick the cancer first,” Brian said.

“How do you feel about yoga classes?” Justin asked.

Brian made a face and asked, “How do you feel about rectal surgery?”

“Food now,” Justin said and they rolled out of bed, neither grabbing clothes seated themselves at the table.

Other than Brian making a happy hum when he bit into his crepes they ate in silence. Afterward as Brian was sipping coffee and Justin was sealing up the remaining crepes for the refrigerator. Justin asked, “You want to swing by Liberty House sometime today?”

Brian gave him a look that revisited the rectal surgery comment but said, “Maybe late, see if Em needs a ride home.”

After Justin finished the dishes they moved over to the couch and put ‘Trapeze’ in. There was something to be said about handsome men in tights. Tony had been a real looker. The Mike, Tino, Lola love triangle wasn’t doing it for Justin, until Brian started whispering filthy comments in his ear about the acrobatic sex Mike and Tino were having behind Lola’s back in the scenes he claimed ended up on the cutting room floor, then Justin couldn’t help but pay attention. The plot Brian was mapping out wouldn’t be made now or fifteen years from now, let alone in the fifties when the film they were watching was made.

The landline rang and the machine picked up, from the speaker Michael said, “Brian? Where are you; you asshole? Are you there? Pick up?”

Brian clambered his way off the couch and hit the button to pick up the call. It was still on speaker and he said, “What’s going on, Mikey?”

“What’s going on? Its Christmas you dick; why aren’t you here?” Michael asked.

Brian shot a puzzled look at Justin and said, “Because I wasn’t invited?”

“When have you ever needed an invitation?” Michael fired back.

Brian said, “I know you think I’m some sort of feral child with no class or manners, but I have never shown up at your mom’s place on a holiday without an invite. She’s always told me when to be there or that she expected to see me. Sorry Mikey, this year Debbie didn’t invite me, I just assumed it was because she has a problem with Justin; or at least my being with Justin.”

“You’re family, you know you’re always welcome,” Michael said sounding much more subdued.

Brian sighed, Justin could tell by the way his hands twitched that he wanted a smoke but he said, “It’s her house Michael, she’s entitled to her opinion and to make her own guest list. Is David coming over?”

“He’s here already. Brian I’m sure she wouldn’t mind-” Michael started.

Brian jumped in, “don’t worry about me, I’m not alone. You should go run interference for the Doc; before she pulls out your baby pictures. Give Vic and Deb my love and tell everyone Merry Christmas. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mikey.” Brian disconnected the call.

Brian rolled his lips in and his shoulders were hunched, his head bowed and he was contemplating the phone. As he glanced over at Justin from under the hair that hung almost to eyes at that angle the gears in Brian’s crafty brain were almost visibly turning. Justin knew Brian was going to try and distract him or at least keep from talking about his feelings. Brian may have nearly forty six years of experience but that didn’t mean he’d every learned to stop covering up about the people that he loved or the ones that hurt him the most. Sadly for Brian that was usually the same people.

Justin didn’t really need Brian to explain why they weren’t getting dressed and heading over. He remembered once, after they’d moved back from Canada, Lindsay and Mel had gone on a trip. Instead of staying at the loft he and Brian had moved into the girls place in the South Hills for two weeks to supervise Gus and Jenny. A girl with whom Gus had been experiencing thirteen year old drama had called the day of a party she hadn’t invited Gus to, asking him to come. Brian hadn’t just said no, he’d said, ‘tell her you have social commitments that at this point you can’t break, wish her happy birthday and let her know you’ll see her at school.’ Gus had been dumbfounded; Brian rarely was the parent to say no.

Brian had then piled Justin and the kids into the car, driven them to West Virginia and they’d toured the Bunker at Greenbriar. Apparently Gus had seen it in a documentary and been bugging his less than enthusiastic moms to go and Brian had a client who could get him in on short notice. It wasn’t until they were driving back home and Jenny was sound asleep from all the excitement that Brian calmly explained that regardless of Gus’ last name, they were Irish. He advised his son to skip the drinking and the fighting part of his heritage but hospitality, extended grudgingly was never to be offered or accepted.

Justin knew that it really wasn’t in Debbie’s nature to make such a calculated, well WASPy, move. She had probably just not asked because she rarely saw Brian without Justin, or maybe she thought if she didn’t ask; Brian would know he was welcome without Justin. Debbie’s style was open and direct. Like she had been, she would continue to make remarks and show her disapproval of both Brian’s lifestyle and Justin’s presence in his life. However, like her inability to filter her remarks and as such not being aware of how offensive or hurtful she sometimes was, Debbie obviously wasn’t aware of the message she had sent by this, or the consequences of it. Debbie would blame Brian, call him an asshole, and think everything was the way it had always been.

Justin wondered if she would even realize that she’d excluded Brian from the family and it would be quite some time before he would accept any invitations with the casual ‘Okay Ma’ that had him dropping things to comply with her wishes. Family would accept halfhearted back-handed invitations, would drop everything for impromptu events and in general not be bound by a guest/host protocols, Brian would now step back with the distance of a guest as opposed to family. He remembered the fundraiser Michael and David had thrown in the previous future, everyone had been talking about what to wear except Brian, only he had said, ‘I haven’t been invited’. And if it had been just Brian, he wouldn’t have gone even if he had been, not if the invitation had been issued after all the acceptable guest had already been invited. The real reason he had attended, and paid the entrance donation for the family, had been his desire to protect the rest of them, and revisit the insult Michael had delivered to the family.

All of this and more was conveyed with the sheepish glance that said, ‘I know I just spoke for both of us and I really don’t want to talk about it’. So Justin rose to his feet and walked over to him, slid his hands up Brian’s stomach, over his chest and rested them on his shoulders before saying, “Hey stud, wanna dance?”

Brian tossed his hair back and grinned before giving an overt once over to their naked bodies and asking, “Dance?”

“I’m feeling like something schmaltzy, Gershwin or Porter,” Justin said, while stepping flush with Brian and tilting his head up to kiss under Brian’s chin.

“I ever tell you that you’re ridiculously romantic,” Brian asked as his hands slid up and over Justin’s hips and ass to settle finally on his waist.

Justin grinned and said, “Might have – a time or two.”

Justin when to stop the DVD and put on music and Brian turned down the speaker on the answering machine. When Justin finished keying up a play list he’d actually labeled RR he found Brian lighting the candles on the dining table. Justin crossed to the entrance and from the master panel turned off all but the blue lights in the bedroom, before joining Brian in the open space by the dining area. Moving into each other arms they swayed and kissed, talked and laughed as the light coming from the windows dimmed and the candles melted down.

Time had lost all meaning but the playlist hadn’t started repeating and the darkness outside came early this time of year. Justin lazily rested his arms on Brian’s shoulders as he tugged on the short locks of Brian’s unkempt hair. Brian’s hands had started on Justin’s waist but had moved down to his hips and now one firmly cupped his ass. They were both half hard and the moment had all the earmarks of moving to the bedroom for a long slow lazy session which would probably mean Emmett would need to get another ride. The sound of the loft door rolling open had Justin planting his forehead on Brian’s shoulder and groaning softly said, “And it’s Captain Cockblock to the rescue.”

Brian barked out a laugh and pulled Justin flush against him. A move Brian made perhaps in solidarity or maybe just to shield them both from full frontal with Michael and David; David had the decency to look embarrassed and to hang back near the doorway instead of blatantly staring. And okay this was Michael, who one month ago would have said Brian sleeping with the same person two nights in a row was a sign of Armageddon; so he was staring in shock, not at the nudity, but at the music, mood lighting and candles – there was obviously going to be an intervention in Brian’s near future.

“Mikey, by ‘here’s a key for emergencies’ what I meant was, if you maybe knock and I don’t answer, come in and have the coroner remove my blotted corpse; not see how often you can interrupt sex and then sell fucking tickets,” Brian said.

When Michael didn’t say anything, David glanced over his shoulder as he was pointedly facing away and he stepped further into the loft and over to Michael, and stepped between them and Michael, blocking Michael’s view, still facing away and said, “I apologize, I didn’t realize he was just going to charge in.”

“I was calling you; you didn’t pick up!” Michael said.

Justin leaned up and kissed Brian along his jaw line and murmured, “Later.”

Justin slipped up into the sleep chamber. He sniffed his tee shirt and sweater from yesterday and deemed them presentable and pulled the tee on, and draped the sweater over his shoulder. After digging out a clean jock he slipped it on before spotting his jeans out in the living room area. He went down the stairs closest too the living room and tossed Brian’s abandoned jeans to him before pulling on his own and crossing to the master panel to bring up the lights.

Once Brian had buttoned his fly he moved to where Michael and David were. He spoke in the calm reasonable voice that he used with Gus when he’d been at the petulant stage and said, “Mikey, I get that you’ve dragged me out of backrooms and the baths and that for you seeing me naked or having sex is pretty much like kissing your sister; no big deal. But Justin lives here now, he’s uncomfortable with you watching and critiquing, I’m not crazy about it either. You wouldn’t want me crashing you and Dave while you getting some would you?”

“If you would have just answered your phone,” Michael started.

Justin said, “We were busy. And just because a phone rings we’re not obligated to answer it, that’s what voice mail is for. And seriously, ring the buzzer on you way up, give us a chance to put some clothes on. You’re the one who has such a problem with my age, yet you always seem to be staring at me naked. It’s creepy.”

Michael turned a horrified look on Justin, which Justin only saw the end of since he was pulling the sweater down over his head. Turning his attention to Brian, Justin said, “We still have four dozen eggs left from the great baking catastrophe, if we’re entertaining I can make frittatas.”

“We just ate,” Michael said.

Brian said, “Of course, you’re hungry.”

“I’m horny but I’ll settle for food,” Justin corrected, glared at Michael and added, “by the way Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” David responded looking like he was trying not to laugh and said, “Michael was worried, he thought there was something wrong.”

“Mikey,” Brian said, “I don’t live alone anymore; Justin is perfectly capable of calling 911.”

“I figured he was with his family and you were here alone.” Michael said.

“We saw you two nights ago and told you were seeing my family yesterday,” Justin said, and added an aside to Dave, “I owe him so very many blowjobs. It wasn’t just Mom and Dad, but Uncle Will and Aunt Carol.”

“They put the K in the Corcoran Clan.” Brian added. As Justin moved into the kitchen and started pulling out pans Brian said, “No more fucking eggs, can’t we just donate them to Liberty House or throw them out the window at random passersby? And I don’t want to hear about starving children in Africa, it’s not like we can FedEx them eggs.”

Justin opened the fridge to see what they had besides eggs. He saw the remains for the shrimp cocktail ring, the remains of another gift basket, containing cheese spreads and hard sausages, all sent by clients of Brian’s, cream for coffee, butter and peppers. He was going to have to go grocery shopping tomorrow. Justin put water on to heat in a pot and started to heat cream in one pan and cleaned and sliced a couple peppers before putting a second pan on to melt butter. He added a four ounce Asiago cheese spread to the cream and started to sauté the peppers. As the water began to steam he pulled down a large bowl and took a package of rice noodles from the under-counter pantry drawer. Putting the noodles in a large bowl he poured the steaming water over them and coved it with a plate, before putting the rest of the water back on to boil. He stirred the cheese sauce and used tongs to turn the peppers. He removed shrimp from the ring and quickly divested them of their tails. He turned off the heat to the peppers.

“You cook,” Michael said.

Justin said, “I eat. Would you like some wine?”

Brian took a chilled bottle of chardonnay out of the fridge and Justin handed him the corkscrew. Brian pulled down four wine glasses and divided the bottle between them.

Justin turned down the temp on the sauce and emptied the dish washer before dumping the noodles into the boiling water. He asked, “Are you sure you don’t want some?”

“I couldn’t,” David said, “it looks good but Michael’s mom fed us enough for an army.”

Michael said, “Well, she was expecting one more for dinner.” He seemed fascinated with Justin’s actions, Justin wasn’t sure if he was surprised Justin could cook or how comfortable he was cooking in the loft’s tiny kitchen.

Justin dropped the shrimp into the sauce to take the chill off, before removing the sauce from the heat. He sipped his wine while waiting and divided the sautéed peppers between two plates. He drained the noodles back into the bowl and loaded the pans into the dishwasher. He used the tongs to transfer noodles from the bowl to the plates before using the tongs to divide up the shrimp onto each mound of noodles and then pouring the sauce over the shrimp and noodles.

Brian had found a shirt and took the remaining bar seat beside Michael and Justin handed him a fork and napkin along with one of the plates. Brian made a pleased sound as he dug in and Justin asked Michael, “You’re not going to get in trouble for leaving and coming over here are you?” And he too started on his dinner.

“I’m not in trouble,” Michael said pointedly, and eyed Brian whose attention was focused on his meal.

Justin swallowed and said, “No, you usually aren’t. Can you explain to me, as an outsider, why Brian should be in trouble? If you or your mother neglected to extend an invitation or even ask what his plans were why should he be held accountable for that?”

“He’s had Christmas with us for almost the last fifteen years,” Michael said.

“You’re lucky. It sounds like you have a warm and generous family to invite Brian to Christmas every year. He speaks very kindly of your mother and uncle. But I’ve been with him for most of his encounters with your mom for the past couple weeks, if your mother wanted him to attend she didn’t asked; or mention Christmas at all for that matter,” Justin said and started eating again, but paused and added. “You’re her son, but I bet she told even you she expected to see you at a certain time and asked you to bring David. She didn’t do that to Brian. There is no fault or blame to be spread on Brian or your mom, just actions and consequences. Brian wasn’t invited to Christmas dinner with your family so he made other plans, with me.”

“We were thinking about swinging by Liberty House tonight,” Brian said, obviously trying to change the subject. “Justin wanted to see Em.”

“Uncle Vic was talking about dropping by too,” Michael said. He was still eyeing Brian, who not having to converse with Michael had almost finished his noodles.

Justin ate quickly and neatly while Michael’s attention was on Brian. He’d lost count of the dinners he’d eaten standing in the kitchen with Brian sitting at the counter over the years. Their talk moved on to how Vic was doing and how successful the fundraiser Vic had helped organize had been. Once finished, Justin loaded the rest of their plates and silverware into the dishwasher and tidied the kitchen. He removed the remaining package of thirty six eggs from the refrigerator and left it on the counter before going to get socks for him and for Brian.

When Justin handed them to him Brian said, “You expect me to go out looking like this?”

“I think you look sexy, you vain bastard,” Justin said and kissed him, before crossing to where he kicked off his ankle boots when they’d come home the night before.

“You don’t have to come with us,” Brian said, to Michael. “Not like we don’t know how hard it is to get some private time over the holidays.” Brian smirked at Michael before cutting his eyes significantly toward David. David looked like he thought that was a great idea but Michael waived it a way and followed them down the stairs.

Justin followed balancing the large flat of eggs. David closed the door to the loft and at the bottom of the stairs held the door to outside for Justin since his hands were full. When they emerged out onto the side walk, Michael was already stopped by the passenger door to the jeep.

Justin rolled his eyes at David and got an amused grin in return. Justin asked pointedly, “David have you ever been to Liberty House or will Michael be showing you the way when he rides with you?”

“We’ll be right behind you,” David said and seemed to be hiding a grin as he moved Michael away from the passenger door using his right hand in the small of his back as if escorting him, and his left to open the door for Justin, so that Justin could get in without dropping the eggs. After David closed the door he and Michael crossed the street to where he’d parked.

Once seated in the Jeep Justin fastened his safety belt and repositioned the flat of eggs on his lap, he glanced over at Brian trying to gage if he had overstepped his boundaries. Brian started the jeep, his jaw was clenching and unclenching and he visibly relaxed his grip on the steering wheel they drove a few blocks before he said, “I’m a big boy, Justin. I don’t need a white knight.”

“You’re a good man. Inside good men are boys who still feel all the careless cuts dealt to them by the people they love the most,” Justin said. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my place, but I did hold back from pelting him with eggs and you have no idea what that kind of restraint cost me.”

Brian snorted a strangled chuckle and at the next light, looked over with a grin and said, “JT to the rescue, huh?”

“JT only needs to rescue Rage when Zephyr’s evil alter ego, Captain Cockblock, is attacking, using his freakishly inappropriate timing and guilt inducing puppy eyes of doom,” Justin said.

“Something tells me this comic is going to be different this time around,” Brian said as they circled the block to find a place to park near Liberty House.

Justin sighed as Brian parallel parked and said, “It would almost have to be, we’re different.”

When they entered, Justin took the eggs back into the kitchen and left them with one of the volunteers. Justin came back to the downstairs commons room where Brian was off in the corner talking with Vic. As Emmett swept down the stairs, Justin saw him spot Brian and light up. Emmett crossed the room to where Vic and Brian were standing saying loudly, “Oh honey, did the ghost of Marley chase you here? Have you bah’ed your last humbug?” Vic laughed as Emmett kissed Brian on the lips and Brian pointedly looked up to realize he was standing under mistletoe. Brian rolled his eyes and leaned over and kissed Vic on the cheek.

David and Michael’s arrival distracted Emmett from dying from shock, and he went over to greet them. Justin came over to Brian and tucked himself under his arm before saying, “Mission accomplished.” At Vic’s curious look he added, “We ditched the remaining three dozen eggs from the great baking fiasco here, Brian said he could feel his cholesterol level rise every time he opened the fridge.”

“You really came through with all those cookies, kid,” Vic said.

Justin shook his head and said, “Not me. I was going for premixed dough from Pillsbury that was all the girls. Welcome to my world; they take over everything and don’t think I can tie my shoes myself.”

“Yeah, I have a sister I understand,” Vic said with a chuckle and then added to Brian, “we missed you kid.”

Brian looked uncomfortable and said, “I wasn’t invited, Vic. Mikey already gave me hell, but I don’t go where I’m not wanted, that’s why I spent as little time as possible at home growing up.”

“You’re always wanted, Brian,” Vic said.

Brian said, “The unspoken message behind the lack of invite was I was welcome if I stop seeing Justin; that’s the same message his mother sent him as well.”

“Better this way,” Justin said, “Calmer, less yelling. No name calling until Michael called and then showed up and then interrupted sex; again. I still don’t understand why Brian seems to be cast as the villain all the time.”

Michael, David and Emmett joined them and Emmett updated them on the day’s activities. Godiva had retired for the evening and most of the cleanup from the day’s celebration was finishing up. Emmett seemed truly tickled that his friends had stopped by to see him. Justin envied Emmett’s ability to appreciate the littlest of gestures and live in the now. He guessed that Emmett had lost so much, his original family almost all refusing to associate with him, then losing George and Godiva. For years Emmett had remained a well-spring of hope and faith in the goodness of human nature. Whenever things were darkest he made himself available to his friends and found family. Justin imagined if there was anyone who didn’t need a second chance it was Emmett. He was hardly faultless but he had the biggest heart and of all the regrets Emmett may or may not have had, letting the people he loved know he loved them would never be one of them.

The six of them walked over to Woody’s since it was so close and Vic greeted a few old friends who were still there after having Christmas dinner. It wasn’t terribly crowded and they pushed two tables together, even Emmett opted for a beer over a Cosmo. Justin had an iced tea, since he’d never obtained fake ID in this timeline. Michael was incredulous that Brian was appearing in public, unshaven, with his clothes rumpled and hair undone. Emmett said it made Brian more approachable and reached over to rub the scruff on his cheeks only to have Brian halfheartedly swat his hand away.

Justin shared Brian’s daring exploits during brunch with his family. David seemed relieved that his own parents had passed and he’d never have to make the judgement call of when or if they were too old to make their own decisions. Emmett reminisced about his Aunt Lula, who been such an emotional bailiwick for him growing up. Justin said, “I don’t know maybe this is hitting a little close to home but it seems to me that you spend most of your life fighting to make your own choices and as soon as you finally have a life and everyone finally stops telling you you’re too young, a whole new set of people come along and try to knock you down and tell you you’re too old and that you should go back to letting people take care of you like you’re a child again.”

“My little social reformer,” Brian murmured into his bottle and placed a hand on Justin’s knee.

Michael said, “Sometimes you need help, especially if you get sick,” and glanced at Vic.

“Promise you’ll let me be there when you tell Debbie she’s too old to keep working, or at least film it,” Brian said.

Vic chuckled and after a moment said, “It’s one thing if your mind is going, but just because you need help at one point in your life doesn’t mean you want to stay helpless forever. That’s one of those things that scare me about those assisted living places. Even if I could have afforded some place like that. Who decides when you’re no longer able to go out, or have to be moved to a higher level of care? Do they let you have an input or do they decide that your choices are too risky.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” Justin said. “My grandmother has her own place there; a hostess stops by daily to make sure everything is fine and to see if she needs anything. It always seemed like a resort or summer camp for old people. They have weekly trips to various shopping districts and can schedule lunch outing for members who may need staff to assist with mobility limitations. They have shuttles to temple and church and even to the cinema ever Wednesday. Her bridge club meets every Monday evening. I never thought they might move her unless she wanted it.”

“Wow, she has a more active social life than me,” Michael said and then looked at David and said, “well except for one area.”

Brian smirked, “she has a rich older boyfriend too.”

Michael squawked and Justin said, “He’s not her boyfriend, yet. But they will be at our table Thursday so maybe he will be soon.”

David said that they had already spoken with Tracey and were planning to pick her up to ride downtown with them and meet her date at the hotel bar. Tracey had confided in Michael that this was her first blind date since high school but that she was looking forward to it since she and Chris had spoken briefly over the phone to arrange where to meet.

Vic asked a few questions about the gala including why Michael hadn’t mentioned it to Debbie. Justin hadn’t realized how good Vic was at subtly letting Michael know he would keep something on the down low without actually saying it. But given he’d most likely known about Debbie’s ongoing ruse regarding Michael’s name and Debbie’s lack of marriage and that no Novotneys were involved in the making of the baby, Vic had probably had a lot of secrets entrusted to him over the years between these two.

After a while they broke up the gathering, David and Michael driving Vic home and Brian and Justin taking Emmett. They dropped Emmett off, with a kiss from Justin and a glare from Brian that had set Em off laughing his whole way into the darkened apartment. They watched until a light came on the second floor and Justin felt sad Emmett was going to be alone. He’d had a series of boyfriends after Drew but like the football player, Emmett loved them and healed their souls and sent them on. Justin always thought Emmett deserved someone who could love him the way he loved all his broken baby birds who he taught to fly and then sent on their way. Of course he wasn’t going to mention that to Brian, he’d never hear the end of his lesbionic tendencies if he did.

It was after midnight when they made it back to their loft. They padded around tidying the socks and underwear still in the living room from last night and setting the timer on the coffee pot since Brian had work in the morning. After they were naked and ready for bed Brian pulled an envelope out of his jewelry drawer and handed it to Justin and said, “Merry Christmas.”

“This isn’t the weird lumpy package in the bottom of the closet,” Justin said.

Brian smirked and said, “That’s a new duvet for the bed, I just put it there to throw you off.”

Justin opened the envelop, it was an itinerary for a trip to New York and judging by the dates it was over Martin Luther King weekend so the tickets had them flying out Friday night; and would be staying at one of their favorite hotels. There were tickets to the show ‘Swing’ for Saturday night and only the fact that it had no dialog and featured the same Jazz type music Justin had been playing around the loft while working on his latest project would get Brian Kinney to sit through a musical. They wouldn’t be coming back until late Monday and there would be plenty of time to stop by the Met and shop until even Brian was tired of it. Justin wouldn’t even have to miss school. Justin threw his arms around Brian and said, “You are ridiculously romantic.”

Brian spun him and dipped him and kissed him and said, “Speaking of suspicious lumpy packages, if you’re going to hide something from me you probably shouldn’t put it with the cleaning supplies.”

Justin scrambled down the stairs and lifted one of the bench seats that lined the sleeping area and pulled out the package. He came back and sat on the bed and waved Brian over. Once Brian sat next to him he handed over the red gift bag with a great big knot tied in the slick plastic. The bag was one sized to wrap bikes but all the others had been too small and Justin hadn’t bother to cut it down, he just rolled the excess material into a big knot.

Brian looked at the knot and pulled the seam of the bag on the other end apart. A black leather jacket fell onto his lap. Brian had tried one on that fit like it was made for him when they shopped before their trip to San Francisco and when Justin ask why he wasn’t getting it Brian said he didn’t like the chrome rivets that lined the arm seams. Justin had gone back and asked if they had any without. They didn’t but they checked with the source and had one expressed shipped. This jacket had no chrome, even the zipper was black matte, but other than that it was the same cut and style which had looked so good on Brian in the store.

“Merry Christmas,” Justin said, “and thank you, for the trip; it’ll be nice to go together and spend our time enjoying the city, instead of counting down until when we’ll be parted again.”

“And we can visit the Met, so you can email Tony and Jill and let them know you saw his work.” Brian said.

“And I suppose they’ll be some shopping?” Justin teased.

Brian smirked and said, “If my memory serves me, Resource Furniture opened this year. Maybe it’s time we replace the Saarinen.”

“Seriously? We didn’t get the Goliath and Todas until the kids were both mobile. Can we afford it? That’s going to be a serious chunk of change even if you don’t go all design diva on the finishes and colors.” Justin said.

Brian faked a look of outrage but Justin could see him biting his lip, and said, “I was never a diva. And you miss entertaining; and I miss how the loft looked; you made it a home, instead of a hotel room.”

“I will spend the rest of my life alone in a hotel room, as long as it’s with you,” Justin said.

Brian side-eyed him and said, “you really have overdosed on estrogen haven’t you? Tomorrow night; you, me, bowling.”

 


	40. I've got to keep control.

While Brian was at work, Justin fended off an onslaught of phone calls from the girls, conferencing in so he couldn’t always figure out who was talking. First everyone needed to go over what they got for Christmas and then there was one more attempt to convince Justin to join them in the after Christmas sales. Justin spent the day at his studio, with his phone on speaker so his hands were free. Even after he finally convinced them he was too busy to come they repeatedly called him for his opinion or a man’s perspective and ‘would you think this is slutty, if you know, you liked girls’. It got so bad he had to plug his phone in while it was on speaker because they’d drained his battery.

On the way home he stopped at the Asian market in the strip and wandered the isles comparing bean noodles to rice sticks and trying to compare sodium content in some of the prepackaged sauces. A girl about his own age who must have been working over her own winter break stopped to help him as she stocked shelves. Her name was Ami and her family ran the market and she was studying cooking at the Pittsburgh Culinary Institute. As they chatted, she directed him to low sodium soy sauce and recommended a prepackage stir fry sauce along with some sesame oil and some canned vegetables like water chestnuts. He left with all that and packaged seaweed, some eel and half pound of tobiko – which technically broke Brian’s no more eggs ban.

He crossed the street to the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company and picked up some good olive oil, orzo, and a container of their artichoke and garlic spread before stopping at the produce market next door to get peppers, an onion, some spinach and a zucchini. As he stepped into the line to check out he was surprised to find Debbie with her own shopping. He greeted her while he waited and she said, “Michael said you cook. Would it have been too much for Brian to tell me he had other plans instead of just not showing up?”

Justin wondered if she would get frostbite when he WASPed out on her and said, “I’m sure it would have been no trouble at all for Brian to have declined your most gracious invitation; had you taken the trouble to issue one. You were, however, perfectly clear without saying a word that as long as he continues not to let you dictated his personal life he’s unwelcome in your home.”

The cashier finished ringing her up and Debbie paid but stayed at the end of the checkout station and he could see she was working up to say something but seemed to have trouble putting it into words. While his order was rang up, he stopped channeling his grandmother and just laid it on the line, “Debbie, you have made it clear from day one, you don’t like me. I get that you think I’m nothing but trouble and in your own, abrasive and somewhat abusive way, this is you looking out for Brian. And from what he tells me, he never had all that many people do that - look out for him - so I can maybe understand that he’s okay with your treating him kind of shitty.” He swiped his debit card to pay and added this bag to the ones he already carried, he was surprised that she was still there and that she hadn’t gone off on him so he added, “If you can’t stop yourself from talking to him and about him like he’s the fucking antichrist and then passing it off as caring; at least stop telling people you’re looking out for me because I think he’s the best damn man I’ve ever met, and I can look out for myself.”

“He’s been at my house for Christmas for most years since he was younger than you,” Debbie said, following along as he left the store.

Justin said, “Yes, it was nice of you to invite him all those years, but I don’t think he expected to have to pay you back by letting you dictate his adult relationships. However by inviting him so consistently you were able to show your disapproval for our relationship by pointedly not asking him this year.”

“He’s like my own goddamn kid,” Debbie said as they made their way down the cold crowded sidewalk, “He’s not perfect, god knows that, but he knows I love him.”

“The words ‘I love you’ have never meant and never will mean to Brian what they mean to you or me,” Justin said. “His mother loved him, but not enough to get him out of that house, his father loved him but had no trouble telling him and showing him how much he resenting being a father. Those words always will make Brian question what the angle is or what price he’ll be expected to pay for them. So if, when you tell him you love, him he hears, ‘as long as you do what I say’ or ‘despite the fact that I blame you for everything that goes wrong in my son’s life’ Brian will pay that price - those words for him always come with a price. Which is why he has trouble saying those very words, he doesn’t want the people he loves indebted to him for those words, Brian prefers to judge and be judged by his actions. He’s not an asshole. And he’s not a bad influence on me, or on Michael. Brian just calls people on their bullshit; if someone says they want something he’ll give it to them just to make them eat their words.”

“You have a lot of nerve telling me about Brian Kinney, I’ve known him a hell of a lot longer than you,” Debbie said.

Justin said stopping at the corner to wait for the light to change, “I have a secret weapon. I’m an artist. I really look; and without your expectations. Brian isn’t a scared fourteen year old. You and Michael have such a past with him that you barely glance at him. Well, he’s my favorite subject; I look and I see new things every time. You tell yourself you know what’s there and interact with him on information that may never have been true. Brian has a lot of scar tissue and masks and he doesn’t expose weaknesses, especially to people who have taken advantage of those weaknesses in the past.”

The word ‘people’ obviously wasn’t a screen and she heard ‘you’ because, Debbie started, “I’ve never-”

Justin jumped in, “Called him an asshole? Blamed him when Michael does something you don’t like? Isn’t Michael actually older than Brian and didn’t Michael have a much more stable home life? If Brian is a member of your family, how did he become the bad kid? Was it that you don’t approve of his promiscuity or was he just convenient?” Justin asked, and as the light changed crossed the street with Debbie. “Brian is more than just a success in his professional life. He has good friends, who value his opinion; he’s a good father; you’re still treating him like the teenager who traded his body to get ahead and secure his scholarship. Sure you wouldn’t have wanted Michael having sex with a teacher while still in high school, but he wasn’t your kid and Brian saw a way to get out; away from his family and he took it. It’s time to let it go that’s not who he is now. Look at who he really is today and not who you expect him to be based upon your approval of his lifestyle. God you’re so much like my mother; it’s not me being gay she has the problem with – it’s me having sex.”

“I’m the president of PFLAG, I don’t have a problem with men having sex,” Debbie said stopping as this was where she would go one way to her house and Justin needed to go the other toward the loft.

Justin sighed and said, “Well maybe you need to be educated. There’s no right way to be gay. If Michael wants to move to the suburbs and have dinner parties with the pretentious country club set, more power to him, I hope he’s happy. I grew up in that world and I’d rather live here. I’m in Brian’s life to stay, our dinner parties are more likely to turn into orgies but there’ll be less chance of a knife in my back.”

“You’re seventeen-” Debbie started.

Justin interrupted and said, “Just so you know, whenever people say that all I hear is ‘I’m wrong but I refuse to admit it and since I don’t have any intelligent arguments, or factual support for my point of view, I’ll just keep beating this old dead horse’ why don’t you take some time and come up with a better reason than my age as to why a grown man should let you run his life. I got a go, this is heavy.”

When he got home Justin boiled some orzo and chopped up some of the vegetables for a stir fry. He then sharpened the best knife and sliced the eel into uniformed strips and then sliced the strips into square lengths. He drained the pasta when it was al dente and put it in the fridge to cool. As he was putting the seaweed to soak, Brian came home and he ended up placing the preped eel in the fridge as well as they both needed to spend some time in the bedroom.

Brian lit a joint after they fucked as Justin lay with his head resting on Brian’s stomach. As they passed it back and forth they talked about their day. Justin mentioned the girls and that he ran into Debbie at the store, Brian bitched about how half the office was off and nothing productive was happening at work. Brian said he now remembered why he gave the staff off between Christmas and New Year when he ran his own company.

“What’s were you making?” Brian asked as they got out of bed.

“Sushi and stir-fried vegetables, it’ll only take a couple minutes, you want beer or wine?” Justin asked, pulling on his jeans.

Brian said, “Water’s good, I seem to remember you trying to make sushi repeatedly, something about not being able to make the right kind of sticky rice.”

“I met a girl-” Justin started

Brian cut in, “It’s a shame you’re not straight with the number of girls you meet.”

“her name is Ami and she’s going to be a chef,” Justin continued, heedless of the snark, “and she told me to try something, if you don’t like it we can eat at Woody’s.”

Using the bamboo rolling mat he’d bought when shopping with Sep he lined up a sheet of seaweed and spent some time situating the eel properly. Justin used the pasta in place of rice in the roll, made two rolls and after slicing those into six pieces, topped all of the pieces with tobiko. The wok heated quickly and he doused the sliced vegetables with sesame oil before dumping in them into cook after they brightened he added some of the bottled sauce. Once cooked he put them in soup bowls and each bowl on a plate and lined up a sliced roll on the side. He garnished it with pickled ginger and opened the soy sauce bottle to take to the table. He carried the plates to the table.

Brian carried the chopsticks and soy and handed Justin a bottle of water before deftly picked up a slice of the roll with his chopsticks. He examined it and said, “Seems to be holding together, that’s an improvement.” Once he popped the piece the piece in his mouth he cocked his he’d and said, “Something’s different.”

“Good different?” Justin asked, at Brian’s pleased hum he said. “It’s pasta, not rice; I still can’t make sticky rice.”

Brian coughed and said, “I don’t think I would have tried it if you had told me ahead of time, but it’s not bad.”

Later they headed for Woody’s, Michael wasn’t there but Ted was at the bar with Emmett who was trying to talk him into hitting a club, any club since he didn’t want to go to Babylon. Ted had taken Blake to rehab over the holiday, he’d only said that they were going away so people wouldn’t wonder why they weren’t around and Blake had checked himself out and disappeared.

Emmett seemed at his wits end. Ted was depressed and not interested in going out so Justin said, “You could come with us.” Brian visibly flinched and glared at him but he added, “We’re going bowling.”

Which was how the four of them ended up at Arsenal Lanes in Lawrenceville; being it was the closest lanes to the district. There was a league of dykes a couple lanes down and some mixed groups of friends. Emmett took a while to find shoes that fit and matched his outfit. Ted was looking at Brian like he though Brian might peel his face off a la Mission Impossible and turn out to be someone else. Especially when he realized how well Brian could bowl.

Even with improved motor control due to never having a brain injury, Justin couldn’t bowl. That was never why Justin bowled. Memories of teaching Gus to bowl and kiddy parties at the lanes morphing into a father/son activity that tore down any bad memories of Jack that Brian might previously have associated with bowling and turned it into a form of therapy. That and it was just hot to watch Brian bowl or do anything athletic. Men and women in the surrounding lanes certainly thought so.

Normally, Brian gave the illusion of a lily of the field, other than the gym, or the treadmill, or business squash he never sweated and avoided any physical activity that was not sexual in nature and distained working with his hands. An odd attitude for a natural athlete; granted any personal pride in his athletic scholarship was probably tainted with the idea that he had received it partially due to his relationship with his coach. Justin sometimes wondered if Brian had avoided the word relationship so vehemently because it brought to mind a business transaction with him. When they had first got together the first time, Brian had gone out of his way to let Justin know that they were together because they wanted to be together, and had even made sure Justin knew that he would continue to pay his tuition when they split. Due to really being young and his pride, at the time Justin hadn’t realized how important it was to Brian that Justin not feel that he owed him. So many of Brian’s relationships, with his father, with his coach, with Debbie all had a quid pro quo aspect; Brian never wanted people to owe him anything. Brian’s visible discomfort with such situation had finally clued Justin in to the fact that far too often, Brian had been the powerless one; the one made to feel as if he were in debt.

As an adult, Brian had never joined any of the athletic clubs which the community fostered. And Justin had witnessed a pointed recruitment effort on a behalf of the Liberty Men’s Kickball team start when Brian had been teaching Gus and Jenny in the park where the team practiced. He overheard one of the men in the mixed group in the next lane, after a rather enthusiastic appreciation of how Brian’s ass looked when he released the ball, say they needed to get him to join their team.

By the fourth frame Brian had three strikes and a spare and Justin had sixteen points. Emmett was actually giving Brian some competition, with two strikes and two spares, so the game was interesting. Ted fell above Justin which Justin figured could be his part in cheering Ted up, at least with him playing Ted wouldn’t be last. And while Em and Brian postured and competed - Brian in an overtly macho way and Emmett ramping up his flame even higher - Justin lent an ear as Ted fretted both over his broken heart and his very understandable worry that Blake was dead from an overdose somewhere.

Emmett let out a rebel yell and shimmied all around Brian when he won the first game by one point. They bowled two full games and had cheese fries and nachos. They would need a rematch sometime since Brian won the second game but no one wanted to stay for a tiebreaker. As they were leaving Brian teased that next time they’d get a lane with bumpers on it for Justin and Ted. Ted rolled his eyes but seemed in slightly better spirits.

 


	41. I remember doing the Time Warp.

The next few days were more of the same, painting all day, planning and executing a meal and then jumping Brian and going out, never bowling again but not always Babylon. Justin had been thinking of starting classes in the summer but now he thought he might like a couple months break both to paint and just enjoy Brian.

One night they’d stayed at Woody’s with a couple of guys and played darts before taking them home. Afterward they’d found they had compatible ideas regarding maintaining a healthy sex life within a relationship and exchanging phone numbers. That evening was reminiscent of how hook ups had gone when they had been older; more of a book of business with like-minded people, who you could call and have over for an evening in. Justin had the impression that Brian had got the ‘I’m hot and not yet thirty’ rush of diving into frequent public sex again out of his system before the two of them had met again. Brian had been gorgeous at forty five, but as a very rich and powerful man he had no longer assumed everyone who checked him out wanted him just for sex. Now he was back to just a hot young guy, and the long lingering looks he got were due to how he looked in his jeans or out of them and not because he owned one of the most profitable ad firms in the country, or Babylon, or any the other businesses he’d bought into over the years. Brian had already formed an LLC for investment purposes. He was both buying property and funding startup businesses again. Brian had always been a good risk assessor. Now that he was combining that ability with his knowledge of the future he had an uncanny ability to back winners.

Before Justin knew it, it was the day of the Gala. He had napped and Brian came home early and crawled in bed with him. At about six they got up and showered together, shaved and had a light salad of chopped vegetables and ginger dressing. After donning their tuxes, they danced briefly until a call came that the car was waiting. It was actually a small well-appointed van with a power lift in the back, despite the service calling it a limo. There were six swivel seats; room for two wheelchairs with a wet bar.

Elizabeth had call on Tuesday to let them know that another resident who lived at Redstone was attending but that her escort was arriving late so she would be riding down with them. Pam was one of Elizabeth’s crew and her escort was her son whom she would be meeting at the event. They hadn’t met Darrin before but Pam said he was one of the vice presidents of PNC Investments and was worried that by the time he got home and changed into his tux that he would make her late. So both Brian and Justin had an older woman on their arms as they entered the William Penn. Justin took the ladies coats while Brian ducked into the bar to see if Michael and David were there yet with Tracey and Chris.

The nine of them shared an elevator the top floor where the main ballroom was. There was a coat check set in the spacious area outside the elevators and the ladies adjourned to the rest room to put dresses to right and check their makeup. While Brian made sure everyone had met, Justin reviewed their party. Chris looked very Bond, if it was a rented tux it was a well-chosen one, in contrast Michael looked like he was going to prom. The shoulders of his tux were too wide and the sleeves a bit too long, it was however technically perfect as far as meeting the black tie requirements so he must have thrown himself on the mercy of the staff at the rental place. David looked better than Justin had ever seen him. Justin had never got what made Michael go all gaga over the older man, especially the first time through. David was handsome, but Justin always thought he seemed sexless and two dimensional. Tonight he looked classy and years younger than when he dressed down. Maybe it was having lived through Brian being that age that made it seem less inconceivable that David and Michael had an active sex life than it did the first time.

Lindsay and Mel stepped off the elevator. As Mel checked their coats, Lindsay came and kissed Brian and was introduced to those she didn’t know. Lindsay was in a deep rose strapless gown which showed off her baby mama curves in the best light. Mel had on wide legged black pants which looked like a skirt and a matching high flared collar black blouse with bell sleeves ending in French cuffs and a black corset laced up the front. When Mel joined them Lindsay introduced her in time for the other ladies to join them and they adjourned to the ballroom.

As they entered the ballroom their names were checked off the registration and they were given small program packets, containing a schedule of events, their seating assignments and a small plastic number for some sort of door prize. The room was almost the size of the building which covered a city block. The ballroom/banquet space covered the whole floor with the exception of the elevators and facilities.

There were multiple bar stations around the room. Tables of h'ordeuvres as well as staff circulating with trays of finger food, large circular tables set for dinning took up about three fourths of the floor space. There was a small stage and a twelve piece orchestra centered on one end of the room as well as a DJ set up in the opposite corner. Doors to the outdoor space were visible and a few adventuresome people, or cigar smokers, were outside enjoying the view despite the weather with the help of outdoor heaters. There was some form of ticket sales going on over in one corner and pretty young girls in black and white circulating with silver trays holding various pieces of jewelry they were taking bids on in a silent auction. Both Brian and Justin had come prepared knowing it was a fundraiser, although Justin though Brian had already done his part with purchasing the table.

Bertie was introducing Elizabeth around to the many old friends who were in attendance and Justin’s ears perked when her heard Virginia Hammond was there with her son, heir to the pickle fortune. Tracey came over to Brian to thank him for the invitation and Justin for setting her up with a man who seemed disinclined to barf on her. Tracey looked great she was in a deep blue satin gown with thick twisted straps which showed off her posture and fit toned shoulders and arms. She had a shimmery silver wrap draped over her arms that matched the small clutch purse she carried. When Justin complimented her on it she confided it had been a hideous lime green monstrosity she’d worn as a bridesmaid and dyed for the occasion, because all the gowns she found in the stores, even if she could have afforded them, looked like prom dresses.

When Tracey was over admiring Lindsay’s pictures of Gus; Chris made a point to stop by where Justin and Brian were chatting with Michael and David. He said Justin could fix him up anytime, so that aspect of the evening was going well. The music being played by the DJ could hardly be heard as the crowd chatted and circulated. No one was dancing and given the choice of music, that was understandable, it seemed to be blandly inoffensive pop. The girls, er ladies, had found their table; one of three located closest to the stage with a podium off to its side, and left their clutches and in some cases draped their wraps over the seats.

Elizabeth’s friend Pam was fretting because her son still wasn’t there and Justin excused himself from the men and escorted her around the room since she didn’t seem comfortable being there alone. That was how he ended up meeting George Schickle Jr. and his mother. It was obvious Virginia Hammond had not been acting out of character when she’d sicked the family lawyers on Emmett. This woman had an air of bitterness around her that would make wishing her a long life a curse on everyone around her. Pam was obviously one of those women who had believed with all her heart that if she fulfilled her role as a wife and mother she’d be taken care of from cradle to grave, and had never participated in the catty one-upmanship of female power games. Justin actually enjoyed metaphorically piercing an opponent’s foot with a stiletto heel in a verbal cat fight. Maybe there was a reason that most of his friend seemed to be chicks.

When Virginia all but implied that Pam had hired Justin from an agency to accompany her for the evening, Justin had laughed and said, “Do recommend the one you use, Pam’s son has a job that consumes so much of his time he can’t always dance attendance on her. But we do expect Darrin tonight; you must stop by and renew acquaintance.”

Pam’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on Justin’s arm, so nice as she seemed to be she had caught that he, first tossed Virginia’s speculation that Pam was paying for it, right back at her, then that Virginia had Junior so whipped, or kept on a short financial chain, that he was less of a man than Pam’s boy, but that Pam’s son was coming to spend time with her and that Virginia should come to her as they felt no need to suck up.

Some people had drifted over to be seated at the tables. Bertie and Elizabeth were at their table, letting people come to them. Given their table was situated right up front, more to do with Bertie’s presences in their party than any pull on Brian’s part they were almost constantly busy. Friends of each would stop to chat as they made their way to their tables or back to the bars. Lindsay and Mel soon joined them and were being introduced, and as more people realized who was seated with her, it looked like the plan to get some of Lindsay’s parent’s peer’s attention was working. Although most were more interested in being introduced to Bertie rather than Mel, they still stopped and would be gossiping at the club over the weekend. Bertie and Stella’s names were all over the program and there was a three covered tripod display up by the podium.

Darrin finally showed; bearing a startling resemblance to Alfred E. Newman, which was weird because Justin had the impression that, fifty years ago Pam had been a looker. Justin handed her off and rejoined Brian. Brian was chatting with a man in his fifties who looked vaguely familiar. “Justin Taylor, Marty Ryder,” Brian said.

Well that was a surprise; Brian’s old boss, or current boss. Okay he knew Marty had been aware Brian was gay, even without the sexual harassment lawsuit. They made small talk, he met Marty’s wife and were able to get away when Justin said there was someone he wanted Brian to meet, which wasn’t entirely true but they might meet someone. Justin did run into one of the men his father occasionally golfed with who had retired from Westinghouse and Brian and he were introduced to his wife. A brief chime sounded and everyone took their seats. While the servers whisked in the foie gras and Justin after reviewing the menu was glad they had eaten before they left, and wondered if they could hit a drive though on the way back to the loft. Since he and Brian hadn’t checked the vegetarian option the foie gras would be followed by fillet medallions and a crème brulee, and in his experience they would all be tiny artistic presentations like the foie gras and not much in the way of filling.

A master of ceremony went over basically what was in the program packets and then introduced a woman from the charity that went over a tedious update on the fundraising to date and plans for the coming year and awards to volunteers. By the time the staff was removing the first course plates and replacing them with the main course the entertainment had taken the stage to recreate one of the Rat Pack’s cabaret shows. The orchestra accompanied them on scatterings of popular tunes from the era. The jokes were raunchier than Justin had expected and went over surprisingly well with the uptight donor crowd. The guy who played Joey Bishop was very popular and delivered dated jokes that were new again to those under fifty. Dessert was over and staff was refilling coffee cups by the time a Marilyn Monroe impersonator, and it seemed odd that she was female, joined them on stage.

After the cast took a bow, the master of ceremony announced they would be available for pictures over by one of the bars for the next hour. He then announced the generous donation from the Stella Kaufmann Trust and her being given an award for her lifetime donations to the Cancer Society before he unveiled the three podiums. One was an enlarged photo of Stella and Bertie from their wedding in the mid-eighties. Her wedding dress had huge shoulder pads and she’d been wearing white cat glasses with rhinestones. The other was a lithograph of Justin’s showpiece, Stella proud and defiant as a teenager making her way in the world, the third was the pencil sketch he’d done of his grandmother and Stella cutting it up on the veranda of Redstone.

Lindsay went over for a closer look, along with several other people from around the room. While announcements were made regarding when the other raffles would close entry and to go purchase tickets or place final bids on items. Justin had spent about fifty dollars so far on some of the various drawings, he wasn’t really sure what they were for but figured spending money was the real purpose of the night so why not.

The conversation at their table stuck to inconsequential things for a while like the décor and who was attending. Justin mentioned to Elizabeth that Virginia Hammond was a pill and had been bitchy to her friend Pam. Bertie spoke up and said Virginia had always been horrid to Stella, like she smelled something bad when she was around. Bertie shared that there were rumors her husband had left her for a servant and that she had never gotten over the shame. Justin asked if he was still with the servant and Bertie said he didn’t know, that George Schickle had become all but a recluse and never appeared in public anymore. For all he knew that meant he and a maid were living happily in his mansion and had no need to go out in public. Justin said he wondered if it was true and then speculated how Mr. Schickle’s family would react if he left his fortune to this mythical servant.

Bertie, of course, equated it to the problems he’d had with his children never accepting Stella and their overt protection of his money from her, as if his money was already theirs. Elizabeth engaged Mel in questions regarding her rights in regard to her son thinking she shouldn’t make her own decisions and the larger issue of the elderly being reduced back to dependent status to be looked after and managed. Elizabeth was tickled when she realized Mel was as she put it ‘Brian’s civil rights lawyer friend’. Brian and Mel had exchanged a horrified look at the word friend that spoke volumes but Mel graciously told her not only what steps her son would have to take to get her declared incompetent but things she could do to shield herself.

Tracey chimed in that it could be really hard to know if your parents’ bad judgement was just a normal thing or if someone was taking advantage of them. Her parents were only in their sixties but she told a story of last winter when she had spent the night with them after a bad ice storm and came down to find two strange teenagers in their kitchen being plied with hot chocolate and cookies. She said she’d never been more terrified when she realized her little mother had let in two big burly boys, who her mother admitted she’d never seen before, just because they knocked on her door and asked to come in out of the cold. Tracey and her parents had a long loud ‘discussion’ about how they could have been killed and left for dead.

Tracey also said her roommate worked in a bank and they had all sorts of training to tell if customers, especially the elderly were being taken advantage of. Chris volunteered that while many states had hotlines to call if you suspected someone were being abused or taken advantage of that Pennsylvania didn’t. So Justin asked if there were any groups that supported the elderly in this particular situation, where other family members were trying to take over before it was needed or worse, waiting until they passed and usurping their wishes by nullifying wills and bequeaths.

Between Chris’ contract knowledge, Mel’s civil rights background, Bertie’s contempt for the way his children had been acting and Brian’s spin doctoring, they hammered out an idea for a non-profit corporation dedicated to taking back financial independence for the elderly. Brian also suggested that a selling point to donations would be that people could name, lovers and friends that their family would railroad out of any inheritance to be paid volunteers, that way a portion of donations could be paid to the intended recipients and free them from the legal battles. After all, as Brian put it, suing granny gay lover is easy, but if you dispute a sizable donation to an organization dedicated to protecting wealthy elders from grasping family members, it just makes you look more scandalously greedy and it would almost be admitting that granny needed to be protected from you.

Michael and David had wandered off during all this to circle the room and check out the auction items. The DJ started to play again a little louder and was playing songs from the Rat Pack’s era, mostly Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. and Frank Sinatra. Given the average age of the attendee’s Justin had expected the dance floor to be more active but almost no one was dancing. Periodically since the end of the show the master of ceremony would go to the podium and call one of the plastic numbers in their packages. Most of the prizes were gift certificates to restaurants or tickets to the CLO or symphony. Justin danced with Elizabeth and when he returned her to Bertie, Brian was missing.

+

“Where’s the good doctor?” Brian asked as Michael grabbed him by the elbow and steered him out onto the balcony. They found a niche close to the building that was shielded from the wind, but far enough from the heaters not to attract any of the smokers.

“He ran into a patient,” Michael said, “What the hell, Brian? Mom chewed me a new one, your boy needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.”

Brian looked around this was so not the time or the place for a half Italian/half drag queen hissy fit. He said, “Justin’s his own person, I don’t control him Mikey, this might not be the best time or place to vent your spleen.”

“Well I never see you anymore, at least not without him,” Michael said, “I can’t believe you told him about you and Coach Martin; and what is this crap about you and the coach having an arrangement.”

“You knew he got recruiters to come to check me out, Michael. If he hadn’t I’d never have gotten an athletic scholarship – our school wasn’t in a big enough conferenced to warrant the attention, he had to pull in some favors,” Brian said. “I was the only soccer scholarship to ever come out of our school.”

“But you were really good,” Michael said.

Brian sighed and said, “Lots of guys are really good, doesn’t mean anyone notices. It’s all about the advertising.”

Brian ended with a smirk and tried to steer them back into the ballroom but Michael swatted off his hand and said, “I don’t get it, I’ve known you forever and you haven’t told me most of the stuff you’ve told him. He’s just some twink you’ve decided to warm you’re bed with, I’m your best friend.”

Brian rubbed his jaw, he couldn’t just say that was thirty years ago and while you were my best friend for the first fifteen, we’ve each had others closer to us in the last fifteen. It was hard enough taking the place of his thirty year old self; he couldn’t even remember how to be fifteen year old Brian. So he needed to deflect and put this in some perspective that this Michael in this time could understand.

“Is that all you are to Dave? Some twink warming his bed,” Brian asked and as Michael opened his mouth to retort he cut him off and said, “Why the fuck should I have to tell you anything, you were there? We lived through this shit together. Don’t think that I don’t know I probably wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t stepped up Mikey. I know I owe you for that. The difference is to you and everyone else, when I say I blew my gym teacher in the showers at fourteen it’s a joke and I’m a slut. Justin goes off on power inequities and the impact of emotional manipulations during coming of age.” Brian gave a choked laugh and added lowly, “He always said he was the grown up in this relationship.”

“I can’t believe you’re even using the ‘R’ word, it’s like the world is coming to an end,” Michael said.

Brian slouched with his hands in his pockets and asked, “Didn’t you say that was going to happen for Y2K?”

Fortunately Dave came out on to the balcony with an acquaintance who offered cigars all around.

+

Justin wandered the room and entered a few more of the drawings. He ran into Darrin about the time he thought to check for Brian out on the balcony. Together they found him smoking cigars with David and Michael and a man named Richard. After he’d introduced Pam’s son, Marty Ryder and came over with Gardner Vance. Marty was passing Vance off as an old friend and Justin was thinking Brian was right in his speculation that since the firm was much more successful, Ryder might move up the timeline on selling it. Given the look Vance was giving Brian, he might not even be given a chance to save his job. But for tonight Vance had a forced grin when Marty introduced Brian as his top performer.

Later when they return to the table they found Tracey had won one of the door prizes, two gift passes to the Sewickley Spa and Mel won a gift certificate to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse. They had been leaving their numbers with whoever stayed at the table. Chris and Tracey were up dancing and David had danced with Lindsay and Elizabeth but Michael had declined when David asked him. An older gentleman stopped to compliment Justin on his work and it took him a moment to recognize him in a tux, he introduced Dr. Beckett, his Industrial Design instructor from his summer program, to everyone and introducing Lindsay as is agent. Dr. Beckett and her exchanged contact information since he had a student he wanted her to meet who needed an agent.

Shortly after that Mel and Lindsay took to the dance floor and caused a murmur as they quietly joined the dancers. Brian had a gleam that said he was looking to upstage them and Justin shook his head no. Brian tried to cajole Michael up but Michael said he would dance only if the music were fast. Finally a new number started, it was ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ by Sinatra. This was a song that he and Brian had danced to dozens of times over the years and Justin stood and took Brian’s hand. It wasn’t prom all over again, they were older and wiser, but it was a sensual song and for a few minutes they were lost in their own world, despite Brian being so competitive with Mel. Because that was just Brian; he never enjoyed anything as much as when he was doing it better than anyone else; which was probably why Brian liked showing off in backrooms as much as he did. While Justin was also an exhibitionist, only Brian brought out his competitive streak.

Shortly after they were reseated Lindsay won tickets to a Penguins’ game on January 3rd, with the Washington, Capitals. Which was taken as a great joke since as Brian said, they were dykes but not that kind of dyke. Justin said he was sure they would find someone to pass them on to.

Elizabeth was tickled when first Brian and then Justin took her out on the floor. Bertie froze Virginia Hammond out, when she was rude about two men dancing together and Brian jokingly suggested he invite her ex to join his propose ‘Gray Avengers’ group. Not that Emmett’s dear George couldn’t use a posse of his own but Justin didn’t know if Brian were seriously egging them on or just keeping himself entertained in what was merely one more of the arduously hetro fundraisers he often bought his way out of in the future. Justin figured it helped that this meant so much to Bertie and Elizabeth, Brian had toughed out worse for family. Even George, in a way, would fall under the auspices of family with Brian, regardless of if he and Emmet ever met this time around.

And given what Tracey and Lindz were talking about Em might not have time to venture into porn, if he ended up with a career as a decorator. “Did you say the attic’s almost done?” Justin asked, taking across Chris but Lindsay had been updating Tracey who was looking for someone to take a look at a house she was thinking of buying and give her an opinion of how much work it would be to fix up and maintain.

“The paint is drying as we speak,” Lindsay said. “It took me longer to pick the color than it took him to paint. You have to see it. We’re enough under budget that I was telling Trace, we were thinking of having Emmett take care of dressing the room. You know something a little more masculine.”

“Emmett?” Brian asked incredulously.

Justin elbowed him gently and Lindsay narrowed her lips and looked wifely causing Mel to snicker and Brian to repeat, “Emmett?”

“Emmett’s flame burns pretty brightly,” Justin explained to his grandmother.

Lindsay said, “Don’t look like that Brian, you hire people to stage your loft.”

“People who don’t routinely pair pink and orange,” Brian said.

Mel took Lindsay’s hand and said, “We have confidence in him.”

They talked some more about the remodel and then Lindsay began to not so subtlety probe Brian and Justin about their weekend plans.

“We’re not planning to attend a party with a bunch of drunk, horny dykes,” Brian said.

Mel said, “You’re not invited. But if you’re not doing anything besides hitting the clubs, how would you like to ring in the New Year with Gus. That way the drunk, horny dykes won’t keep him up all night.”

Brian exchanged a look with Justin who smiled and said, “Sure, we can show him the fireworks without even getting up off the couch.”

“We’ll stop by after brunch Sunday,” Brian said. “But you have to wrestle the car seat into my car,” he added to Mel.

Lindsay and Mel were the first to leave, as Dusty was babysitting Gus and they didn’t want to keep her too late. Shortly after Justin got the feeling that Elizabeth was claiming fatigue due to Bertie looking a bit droopy. Bertie and Elizabeth insisted on Brian and Justin staying, as the van service would take care of everything. Even though Justin would have bet Brian was looking for a reason to cut out with them, Brian was technically the host of their party so they stayed. David offered to drive them home when they were ready to leave.

Once Bertie and Elizabeth had left, Chris admitted to being pretty hungry despite liking the food that had been served. “What there was of it,” Justin added just before his stomach chimed in loudly so the six remaining members of their party were preparing to head out to Ritter’s when Michael won a thousand dollar Macy’s gift certificate.

Four men walking into an all-night diner in tuxes hadn’t caused a stir, but Chris and Tracey joining them did for some reason. Tracy brought the picture of her and Chris with the Rat Pack to show them. While, most of them opted for breakfast foods, Brian and David ordered salads. The more time they spent with Tracey the more Justin liked her, she seemed to be a real roll with the punches type of girl who could take anything in stride, from snooty society ladies looking down at her to their waitress pointed disapproval of her gown’s neckline, or perhaps the man of color whose arm she walked in on.

It wasn’t any later when they got home than a night out at Babylon, but it felt more draining. Brian and he would be hitting the gym early, but Brian had agreed to meet Michael for lunch and Justin thought it might be time to give them some space. Justin had told Lindsay he might swing by to see how the attic looked if she didn’t mind and she told him to come anytime that she and Gus had no plans.  



	42. Drinking those moments when

After hitting the gym with Brian, Justin stopped by Torso to look for slutty shirts and wait for Emmett to end his shift. They planned to ride over to Mel and Lindsay’s together, Emmett to get an idea of what he needed to shop for and Justin just to be nosy.

Emmett had four shirts set aside in a dressing room and just pointed him in there while he rang up customers. Brian would have freaked over three of them as they were mesh and over the top in color and cut, very Emmett. But the fourth was a deep sapphire with cut similar to tee shirt if you removed the neck band, it fit tight without cutting off circulation and looked good so he bought it.

Twenty minutes and a bus ride later Justin and Emmett stomped the snow off their boots as they waited in front of Lindsay and Mel’s door. Lindsay opened it and said, “Thanks for coming.” She let them in and they removed their coats. She said, “We’d do it ourselves but since it’s for a young man we thought a man’s eye would be better.”

“Well,” Emmett said, “I was thinking mostly neutrals and then he could add his own personal touches.”

“Emmett,” Justin said, “I don’t think straight guys add personal touches, they treat their rooms like lockers and just keep their stuff there.”

Justin really wasn’t there to help or give input; he just wanted to see how the attic had changed. He really thought it would take longer. He followed Lindsay and Emmett up to the garret and stood back taking it all in. The joices were no longer showing, all the walls and ceiling had been dry walled, and he assumed insulated. There was a platform built in a sloping alcove with built in drawers underneath, the walls functioned as headboards on either the top or bottom. The far side against the wall had niches built into the wall large enough to function as a tiny night stands, regardless of which way the sleeper chose to face. The floor was a smooth warm brown cork and the walls were all finished and painted the palest yellow, while the ceiling was an off-white parchment color. There was a large, square, arts and craft style light fixture overhead and two matching ones on the sides of the sleeping alcove.

“I thought it would look smaller,” Justin said.

Emmett said, “This is a very nice size. You wouldn’t want to clutter it up too much. Are these both closets?” Em slide back a pocket door to reveal a nice size closet with one long bar at eye height and a second bar, covering half the length at hip height, there were two low shelves coming out half the depth of the closet for shoes. Justin slid back the twin door on the other side of the windowed gable and saw that second closet was shelved from floor to above eye level like a linen closet and had free space storage above.

Emmett walked the length of the attic and said, “Well you’ll need a mattress, window coverings, linens, maybe a chair, side table and bookshelf, a couple lamps wouldn’t go amiss. Do you have a budget?”

“One thousand and that includes your fee,” Lindsay said.

Emmett said, “Oh, honey no. It’s my pleasure.”

“We insist,” Lindsay said. “You’re doing us a favor and time spent on this could be used for paying jobs.”

“I’m not a professional,” Emmett said. Justin wondered if he was saying that because he didn’t want the job, one thousand didn’t seem like enough to get everything Emmett said but then he added, “you do have good bones here, the square light fixtures give it a masculine feel. It has a neutral palette, maybe dark blue linens. I can find you some used furniture pieces, but transport’s a problem.

While they were having tea with Lindsay, HD stopped by with a queen mattress, still wrapped in the original plastic covering. After Justin swallowed down his instinctual need to rip off the once again mismatched clothes HD wore, he was shocked by Emmett’s shameless flirting. Justin tried to subtly indicate to him he was barking up the wrong tree, but given HD was in five mismatched shades of blue he was wondering how Em was managing to not cringe despite how good HD would probably look out of his clothes. HD and Emmett were able to get the mattress up to the attic and unwrapped and onto the platform. Emmett admitted that had been his biggest concern pricewise and when HD only needed to be reimbursed fifty dollars Emmett asked if it was stolen.

Justin thought Em was showing more bravery then brains but HD blushed and tucked his chin down and scuffed one hand over the back of his neck before offing a small grin and saying, “Estate sale, and I may have talked them down by reminding them it’s illegal to sell a used mattress that hasn’t been professionally disinfected in Pennsylvania.”

“But it’s still in the plastic,” Em said

HD shrugged and said, “It was in the guest room, I don’t think they had many guests.”

It passed the smell test and Em was going over his list fretting about where to go and what was available on the bus line. HD seemed hesitant and then said, “Only place I have to hit today is ‘Construction Junction’ but if you want a ride along I know a couple places you can check out for second hand stuff.”

HD offered Emmett a tape measure from his back pocket and Justin wrote the measurements down along with Emmett’s list on a blank page of his sketch pad. While HD loaded up the last of the left over flooring and his drop cloths from the painting into the truck Justin took Emmett aside to explain that HD was straight.

“No, he’s not,” Emmett said, “we made a connection, I could feel it the minute our eyes met.”

Justin rolled his eyes, “You sound like Brian. Trust me Em, he’s straight.”

“He was checking out my ass,” Emmett said, “I didn’t see it, mind you, but I have a sense about these things. Whatever makes you think he’s straight?”

Justin gestured toward the man, who was bent over before heaving three boxes of cork flooring up into the back of his truck and slamming the tailgate, as if it should be self-explanatory.

“What did Brian say,” Emmett asked.

Justin sighed and said, “Brian says his gaydar is impeccable and insists that he’s gay. But may I point out; if he were, Brian would have hit that.”

“Well I can’t fault you there, but I think this calls for further research,” Emmett said, and smiled and waved at HD who blushed and finished his conversation with Lindsay, before opening the passenger door for Emmett and driving off.

“So,” Justin said to Lindsay, “you’ve had him around the house the past couple days, HD Davis, straight or gay?”

“Gay,” Lindsay said.

Justin frowned, “are you saying that because that’s what Brian said?”

“I asked him,” Lindsay said and then laughed at Justin’s face.

+

Emmett had never heard of ‘Construction Junction’ but was going to put it in his list or resources. It sounded like a yuppie hardware store but it was like going to the back barn at his grandad’s place where everything ended up eventually. Easily the size of a football field it was two big warehouses end on end, on an off street of Wilkinsburg of all places. Outside it had bricks of every color lying in haphazard piles, along with railroad ties in various states of use and a variety of wrought iron fencing. Inside, it had all kinds of odds and ends. When DIYers or professionals remodeled and ripped out they brought the pieces to ‘Construction Junction’ it had everything from a wall of doors, fifty feet long, hanging like shirts on a rack; to a line of two foot stables holding moldings, grouped by width from old houses. There were dissembled banisters and spindles, old windows, ceiling fans and piles of tile and leftover flooring along with mismatched church pews and stained glass windows and rows of metal lockers from schools and factories. There were toilets of all hue, vanities and roofing materials; it had fixtures for doors and cabinets, modern and antique in display counters, there were whole kitchen cabinet grouping that had been scrapped when new kitchens were put in and a whole warehouse of office fixture, huge metal desks, file cabinets and credenzas. There were aisles of lighting fixtures which prompted Emmett to ask his quiet companion “Is this where you got the fixtures for the attic?”

“The sconces, but the overhead I got from a dumpster,” HD said and side-eyed him. Emmett was both enjoying the eye candy and the fact that for once he had to look up.

Emmett laughed and said, “Free is always better than cheap.”

“I don’t know what’s worse people who stick that stuff in their basement to rot or the once who chuck it,” HD said. Emmett nearly sighed in relief as the tension was finally leaving his new friend’s shoulders.

“What did you need to get here?” Emmett asked, as they approached the fixture counter where the register was.

HD said, “Nothing, just dropping off, won’t take long -”

“Huxley Davis, haven’t seen you in too long,” a short man with actual mutton chops said as he popped up behind the counter, “How’s your mama.”

“She’s still – terrifying,” HD said, blushing hard and looking adorable as he scuffed the toe of one large boot clad foot. Blonds really showed a blush, and Emmett couldn’t help wondering how far down it went.

HD introduced the mutton-chopped man as Mr. Shrump, his retired shop teacher, and possibly a third cousin once removed. Mr. Shrump followed them and logged what HD donated and traded from the back of his truck. Apparently donations could be exchanged for store credit and HD was a frequent customer. Emmett had enjoyed listening to HD and the little man argue about if they were second or third cousins, it reminded him of back home. Emmett asked, “Where are you from?”

“About fifteen miles that way,” HD pointed. “Suttersville, every heard of it?”

Emmett grinned and said, “Any reason I should?”

“It’s the home of the annual Suttersville Rattlesnake Roundup,” HD said with an answering grin.

“You have got to be shitting me,” Emmett said, because seriously what side of the Mason-Dixon Line were they on?

HD looked enormously pleased with himself when he said, “Small town America, you can’t make shit like this up.” Then he did that embarrassed shuffle, Emmett was beginning to find endearing and added, “So you want to stay in the city to shop, or you trust me to take you out East? There’s a Habitat for Humanity store, Goodwill and Salvation Army in Irwin, they always got furniture, scary Seventies furniture but furniture; and if you don’t find what you like I got a recliner that’s going to rot away in a storage unit if I don’t get rid of it.”

Emmett smiled as he climbed up into the truck and said, “I trust you, Huxley”

“Could you, maybe, forget you ever heard that?” He said, blushing once again.

They found a recliner with good bones and uncomplicated lines in a hideous pink and teal floral pattern from the Eighties at the Salvation Army store, along with three flat ceramic plate type things and a matching big bowl in dark blue that Emmett thought would be fabulous for keys, wallet or change to keep down clutter and a Sixties style chrome tripod lamp that looked perfect but didn’t work but HD had looked it over and said, “five dollars in parts and I can fix it,” so it along with the chair were loaded into the back of the truck.

At the Habitat for Humanity store they found a large piece of unwarped mirror, in a pile of large pieces all looking like they’d been ripped off a wall. Kenny, who volunteered there but wasn’t a cousin, was familiar with HD’s scavenging trips and said a former beauty parlor had been converted to a doctor’s office and the walls had all been mirrors. The piece they purchased for ten dollars was three feet by five feet; it had to be suspended from bungee cords in the back of the truck so it wouldn’t crack on rough roads. Emmett explained that he wanted to put a back on it and frame it, maybe with a mosaic and rest it on the floor to both open up the room and give the occupant a way to check how he looked. Emmett was looking though some boxes of tile on the floor and he found several in blue and white Moorish pattern and asked HD to look through the solids on the other side of the aisle for any more tiles in blue.

HD scuffed the back of his head with a hand and said, “I” stopped and started again, “I don’t actually see color.” That explained so much, Emmett thought as he turned an incredulous look on HD who added, “Head injury; I still remember what they look like but everything is kind of like a black and white movie, all shades of grey.”

Emmett found enough blue and white tiles to frame the mirror, and enough of the Moorish ones to use on the corners. At the Goodwill store they found curtains, a blanket and bedspread, not in the right colors but able to be dyed, and a low bookshelf that would also do to hold a TV or stereo if needed. Along with two matching table lamps that HD had pronounced someone’s shop project but that worked and were dark stained wood to match the cork flooring with shades made of two long cylinders, the inner a tinted parchment and the outer cylinder a matching mesh.

By then it was getting later and most places were closing they stopped for fish and chips at what looked like a biker bar. Their waitress was an older woman, Barb, who was the mother of someone HD had played hockey with in high school stopped by their table and after brining their food updated them on who’d gotten married, pregnant and flunked out of school in the past year or so all with HD offering her twenty or so words. When she left HD offered, “Small towns,” with a shrug as an explanation.

So Emmett said, “Let me tell you about Hazelhurst.”

It was about the time Emmett would usually meet the guys at Woody’s when they were unloading the truck in a gutted building in lower Lawrenceville, that HD said they could use to paint the shelves, reupholster the recliner and frame the mirror, tomorrow. So it just seemed neighborly when after HD drove him home for Emmett to invite him up for a drink. Thankfully Michael appeared to have gone out for the evening already. The drink was soon forgotten and they relocated to Emmett’s bedroom.   


HD kicked off his boots and toed off his socks. He pulled his flannel shirt and the tee shirt under it off in one sweeping move of bunching abs and flexing biceps. He paused and looked at Emmett as if to ask if he’d been reading it wrong, and that was all Emmett’s fault for enjoying the view when he should have been getting undressed himself. It was downright charming how this boy could go from being a full up alpha male to hesitant and deferring in the blink of an eye. Emmett decided to clear up his intentions and gave HD a shove down on the bed, once he got the eyesores off him HD was every bit a tasty treat as Emmett had imagined.

 

Stripped to his button flies all six and a half foot of HD Davis was sprawled out on his bed and Emmett offered up a prayer that Michael stayed over at David’s tonight. Emmett slowly peeled off his shirt and enjoyed the glazed expression on his soon-to-be lover’s face. There was nothing like that look of carnal desire in a man’s eyes to make him feel like the belle of the ball. Where had this one been? Certainly not at Babylon, there would have been a line around the block waiting for a taste. He wished he’d thought to put on music because the way HD was looking at him made him want to put on a show. Emmett shimmied out of the rest of his clothes and started to crawl over those long legs as large calloused hands cupped his hips and their mouths met in a searing hot kiss.

As Emmett started to unfasten the buttons of HD jeans, he broke kiss and said, “I” and stopped and started again, “maybe, it’s just-”

“Tell Auntie Em, honey it can’t be that bad,” Emmett said, suddenly wondering if Justin was off based in his speculation.

“I’m proportional,” HD said, and before Emmett could offer a confused look, HD lifted his hips and lowered his jeans and briefs.”

Damn, he certainly was. This man could win contests. And maybe, Emmett thought staring open-mouthed wasn’t the politest response because HD was starting to cover himself with one big hand.

“NO!” Emmett said. “No, that wasn’t a complaint, you’re perfect.”

“Are you sure?” HD said, and he was back to the almost virginal hesitancy. “There’s a fine line between ‘nice cock’ and ‘get that thing away from me’.”

“Nice cock, definitely nice cock,” Emmett said.

HD swallowed and moved his hand away and said, “I don’t want to hurt you, if you’d rather I-”

“Oh, honey no, I am most assuredly your girl,” Emmett said, reaching for his bedside table where he kept condoms and lube.

HD’s smile stole back onto his face as he engulfed Emmett’s balls with one hand and fisted Emmett’s cock with the other; he said, “Emmett, if you were a girl, I wouldn’t be here.”

Emmett rolled a condom on that impressive slice of man meat and then discarded it and reached for a larger size. He felt deft fingers caressing his hole, and then disappear to get more lube. So the boy did know the mechanics and maybe this wasn’t the first time. Really there was no way to just ask that without being insulting; one just didn’t do that with ones gentleman callers.

+

Michael startled as he opened the door before Ted could knock. Which was just as well since Ted was holding something. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting you. What is that?”

“I don’t know, plant stand? Telephone table? Wouldn’t have been good for much else,” Ted said. The table top was about sixteen inches square. There was a shelf the same size about seven inches below and it would stand, if Ted wasn’t holding it by one of the ladder like rungs five inches below the shelf, about two and a half feet high. “Em called yesterday and said he needed something for a lamp that didn’t take up much space and this has been in my storage forever, I’m glad to get rid of it.” Ted entered as Michael stepped aside and ushered him in.

“Well I gotta go, he should be in a good mood, whoever was here last night I thought they were going to knock down a wall,” Michael said with a leer and continued out the door while leaving Ted in the apartment.

“You’re not going to the diner?” Ted asked.

“I’m off two days, David and I are going to Seven Springs now since I work New Year’s,” Michael said, “Tell Em we’re probably going to spend the night and drive back tomorrow.

Ted shook his head as he set down the table. David sure knew how to romance a guy. And Michael deserved that. Michael would never be happy trying to pattern himself after Brian. And if Ted was honest, and he could be at least with himself, he was beginning to realize that Brian had never wanted Michael to. For the longest time, especially before he’d had Blake in his life, Ted had thought Brian kept Michael around for his own selfish vanity. It was easy to dislike Brian when he seemed to effortlessly have everything Ted had wanted: success, in business and the bedroom; friends even though he could be an unapologetic asshole and Michael, a genuinely decent guy who obviously worshiped him.

Ted’s concept of Brian Kinney had apparently had a very unsound foundation which had over the past year been shaken by a lot of things. Seeing the maturity Brian hid behind his abrasive façade had been eye opening. He’d started looking closer when he’d heard the history of Michael and Brian rewritten. Brian was not some savvy streetwise kid taking advantage of Michael’s naivety to obtain a fawning sycophant; but yet another of the strays, Debbie mothered. This one adopted at a young enough age that social services should probably have been contacted.

Brian and Michael apparently hadn’t had the equal footing that all their stories suggested. Michael implied that Brian had been the hero, keeping away the bullies and ensuring Michael wasn’t a complete outcast. Nowhere, in either Michael or Brian’s reminiscences, was there any indication that Michael had held all the power in their relationship, at least as boys. If Michael at any time rejected him, then Brian could have been out on the street or worse, in a dangerous home. So in a way, Michael had been Brian’s hero acting as the adult and in his limited adolescent way, getting Brian out of a dangerous situation. The kissing, the seductive draping of himself over Michael’s shoulders, the overprotectiveness Brian showed regarding who was worthy to be in Michael’s life no longer seemed to be Brian giving Michael just enough to keep him a devoted admirer and now had the feel of the push and pull of sibling dynamic. Brian, despite being younger, now played the role of big brother with Michael, at once tormentor and protector; confidante and instigator.

Ted knocked on Emmett’s bedroom door. He figured even if Em was off today, he’d want to brag about last night’s hook up. The door must not have latched when it closed. Or the balance had warped due to age and weathering because Ted’s sharp rap had caused it to slowly swing open with a creak worthy of a horror movie. The sight it revealed however wasn’t at all horrific. Seeing Em everyday it was easy to forget he had a great body hidden under some of the eye blinding outfits he favored. If Em hadn’t been blinking up at him Ted would have bolted, “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “The door just swung open. Michael thought you were alone. I’ll go.”

“N’sall righ,” Em said, his accent heavy as he aborted an instinctive move to scratch his balls and waived Ted back and added, “Gimme a’minit, we’ll join you for br’fast. Want you to meet him.”

Ted pulled the door shut and tried to clear his mind. If he’d known Em looked like that, well damn the things you realize you missed. And now, Emmett wanted Ted to meet the solid wall of meat beside him. There weren’t many guys who looked tall next to Em. Maybe being closer to Michael’s size Ted was biased but that blond who’d spent the night with Emmett was huge, and taller that Em judging by the way he seemed to be poured over the bed.

Ted heard the water start in the shower while he was in the kitchen. He helped himself to the little coffee that remained in the coffee maker and made another half a pot. That should be enough for three before they headed to the diner. Given Emmett had met, introduced to his friends and broken up with soul mates in the space of an evening, Ted was not banking on the latest lasting long but he was certainly a visual treat and Em would enjoy the attention he’d get sweeping into the diner to show off that prize for however long it lasted.

The man, and Jesus standing he had to be six and a half at least, emerged from Em’s room with a tee shirt draped over his shoulder and buttoning up his jeans. Emmett appeared, dressed his hair also wet, behind him and propelled him forward with one hand on the small of his back while the other hand gestured expansively, “HD, darlin’ this is my dear sweet friend, Teddy. Ted Schmidt, HD Davis.”

As they overlapped pleased to meet yous, Ted notice that stud had a deep voice and oddly a Western Pennsylvania accent. There was no way he or anyone could have missed this if he’d haunted any of the establishments in and around Liberty Avenue. Ted wondered if he sang, because that voice had some serious bottom. HD pulled his tee shirt on and tucked it in; apparently HD had done Lindsay and Mel’s remodel and they’d introduced the two. Emmett of course was doing most of the talking as usual while they had coffee, expanding on plans for his day off that included finishing up some work on the girls attic. Ted surreptitiously watched Emmett’s new friend. At first look he’d been intimidating but as he watched how HD ducked his head and looked up though long pale lashes as his entire attention on Emmett, the guy was obviously wrapped.

They took separate cars to the diner, well Ted took his car and Emmett climbed up into a large black truck. As Ted saw them coming down the sidewalk together, he couldn’t help notice how comfortable they looked. Emmett was talking a mile a minute, emphasizing points with his hands and HD, attentive, offering a word or two that would set Em off again with an excited smile and bolder gestures.

They met up just before entering the diner and slipping into the only open booth. “Hey boys, how’s tricks. Well, Em looks like you still have one,” said as she filled the coffee cups in front of them.

Ted watched wide eyed as the bashful giant shot Debbie a look that would have most men pissing themselves. His head had lifted from the downward tilt it had had ever since Emmett had begun fluttering about him and ushering him to the diner. Ted was reminded of nature documentaries when a stag went from peacefully browsing among the foliage to brandishing a pointed rack at an attacker.

“Did you just call him a prostitute?” HD’s deep voice was barely above a whisper, but voices at that register carried. The occupants of the next booth gleefully waited for Deb’s response.

Emmett, ever the peacemaker, gracefully placed his right palm on HD’s right shoulder and gently gripped his left hand around HD’s left bicep. Outwardly, the moved looked like a queenly flutter, Emmett merely wrapping himself, while seated on the inner side of the booth, around a man built like a brick shithouse who sat next to him. But Ted knew Emmett, regardless of how high his flame burned, was over six foot of solid Mississippi good ‘ol boy and at the very least could now prevent this wall of muscle from launching himself out of the booth since he had essentially corralled him. “It’s just slang,” Emmett cooed, “Debbie’s a friend, she’s teasing. You are not a trick.”

And now Em shot Debbie a pleading look that was apparently much more effective than the way Michael wined when Deb embarrassed him, because instead of getting angry she just rolled her eyes and said, “Sheesh! You boys better take this one under your wing. What is he a virgin?”

Ted could see both of Emmett’s grips tighten on HD as Debbie asked, “What’ll it be.”

“Just coffee,” Emmett said, his own voice sounding like it did when he was making fun of straight men and though he offered a very fixed smile his eyes were shooting lasers at Debbie.

“Same,” HD said, continuing to glare at her.

“Egg white omelet and whole wheat toast,” Ted said. Sure it was Brian’s usual but he didn’t want to decide anything right now and the sooner Debbie left the sooner this Mexican standoff could end.

After Debbie left Emmett said, “We can leave. Look there’s Brian and Justin we wouldn’t even be leaving Teddy alone.”

“Ritters?” HD asked.

Em grinned and said, “Sounds wonderful.”

HD dropped a five on the table for their untouched coffees. Greeted Brian and Justin, who he apparently knew and escorted Emmett, with one hand in the small of his back out to where they’d parked.

They slid in and simultaneously lifted eyebrows questioning the full cups of coffee waiting for them. Ted said, “They didn’t touch them.”

“How did you know?” Justin asked, asked Brian. “I was sure he wasn’t.”

Brian smirked and said, “Did he tell you that?” And at Justin’s confused look Brian asked, “You didn’t ask did you? You assumed because he dresses worse than Ted that he was straight.”

“Hey,” Ted said. But his heart wasn’t in it. He’d periodically overheard an ongoing gay/not gay debate between these two and been wondering who it applied to. Ted had never doubted HD was gay but seeing someone naked and wrapped around an equally naked Emmett when you first laid eyes on them was probably cheating.

In response to Justin’s glare Brian said, “First time I saw him, I rolled open the door and said, ‘If there’s a God you’re gay’ and he said, ‘there’s a God, where do you want this.”

“You couldn’t have just said you’d asked him?” Justin huffed.

Brian pushed out his cheek with his tongue and said, “Where would the fun be in that?”

 


	43. The blackness would hit me.

 

Justin had remained with Lindsay after HD and Emmett drove off. Once she stopped giggling over his reaction to her bombshell, they sat at the kitchen table and had a meeting. He’d slept in and there really wasn’t enough left of the day to justify heading to his studio, besides since they would be babysitting tomorrow, Brian and he were definately going out that night. So he played with Gus while Lindsay reviewed the status of his lithographs, and recommended that even though there were slightly less than a hundred still to sell that he should okay the second run to be put into production now. She felt that it would fuel sales of the first run making them more sought after and given the time it would take to have it done correctly make sure they didn’t sell out before the exhibit moved in February. They went over the dates of the Tucson show at the Tucson Museum of Art and Justin requested the same passes to the opening be sent to the top resorts and hotels with in fifteen to twenty miles of the museum. Lindsay wanted to know if she should confirm if he was coming and Justin asked if he could get back to her on that.

He headed back to the loft and napped. Brian woke him with a blow job and said they were meeting the boys at Woody’s and then heading to Babylon. Before they showered and changed Justin climbed on top and road Brian’s cock until they were both screaming out their orgasms. Justin pulled on his burgundy leather pants and paired them with the sapphire shirt he’d bought that day. The colors together were flashier than he normally wore but made Brian do a double take. Justin felt the way both hugged his body worked well and liked Brian’s reaction. Brian went with simple black on black tee and jeans; but then he rarely needed adornment.

They stopped at the sushi place on the way to Woody’s since Brian had said he’d had enough junk food out with Michael. Michael and he had hit the diner before going to the comic store and in general touring some of their adolescent haunts. For being so disapproving of Justin and Brian, Michael seemed to be at a good place with David and had confided that David had asked him to go on an overnight up in the mountains.

Michael and Ted were already at the bar. Ted looked better than he had the night they went bowling, but still startled when a patron who resembled Blake walked in. “Where’s Emmett tonight?” Ted asked Michael.

“He hadn’t been home when I got there,” Michael said. “And he had a short day today, so I don’t know what’s up.”

“Oh, he must still be shopping,” Justin said, “He left Lindsay’s around two. Em had a list of stuff he needed to get, and I think he wanted to get the furniture while he had access to a truck.”

“Well that explains the voice mail asking if I was still looking to get rid of some of the junk in my storage space,” Ted said.

“So, Emmett had access to a truck,” Brian said cryptically, “that should be fun for him.”

“So why did you think he’s wasn’t straight, Brian?” Justin asked.

Brian shook his head and said, “Not having sex with me does not make a man straight.”

“Well if Emmett’s not coming, let’s head out,” Michael said.

The entry into Babylon was plastered with flyers advertising their big New Year’s Eve celebration; there would be drink specials, a pole dancing contest and door prizes. As they made their way to the bar, Ted asked if everyone was going. When Brian said, “Babysitting,” Michael’s eyes almost fell out of his head.

Michael said, “You?”

“You were there when Mel asked him,” Justin said.

Brian said, “He is my son, Mikey. And it’s just overnight.”

The bartender stopped and when Brian ordered only water, Michael said, “What’s up with you?”

“He’s pregnant,” Justin snapped and Ted snorted his drink out his nose.

Brian quickly finished the small bottle and dragged Justin out on to the dance floor. It was crowded; more crowded than normal and seemed much warmer. They couldn’t have been out there more than a half an hour when Justin felt itchy and light headed. Sweat was pouring off him and he felt uncomfortable. He was wondering if the sushi was bad when Brian stopped, cupped the back of Justin’s neck and said, “You don’t look good, you’re kind of turning red.”

Brian steered him back to the bar and ordered more water. Justin pulled his shirt over his head and heard Brian say, “Christ.”

“What have you been doing to him?” Michael asked, getting a glare from Brian and the shirt thrown in his face by Justin.

Ted cut in, “Those are hives Michael, not welts,” which bore pointing out, since Justin’s chest and back were covered with angry red marks.

“Are you having any trouble breathing, Sunshine?” Brian asked, leaning close to his ear to be heard.

Justin shook his head as he sipped the cold water and said, “I just need to go home. And shower. I’m fine.”

“Of course you are, and anaphylactic shock is highly entertaining, I look forward to it. We’re going to the emergency room. Now.” Brian said.

While Brian was arguing that he couldn’t leave shirtless, Justin was pointing out that the welts were only where the shirt covered. The bartender interrupted their snarkfest and offered Justin a black tee shirt that said ‘Security’ on it. It was laughable, given his current physique, but welcome. Brian tipped the bartender more than the shirt was worth and started to drag Justin out of Babylon.

Michael offered to come, but Brian said it was probably just allergies and they were just going to be safe. Which is how they ended up at eleven thirty on a Saturday night sitting in Mercy Hospital’s emergency room waiting area, among all the bar fights and overdoses. It was nearly an hour before Justin was called and when Brian came with him. They asked if Brian was family, they both said yes and when the nurse looked expectantly Brian deadpanned, “I’m his mother.”

The nurse looked like she wasn’t going to budge and Justin said, “If you let me die, here, feet from the treatment area, he’s the one who will pay a phalanx of lawyers to lay waste to you and all you hold dear.”

She decided to let Brian go back to wait for a doctor to come and examine Justin. Brian had Justin remove the ‘Security’ tee shirt and hop up on the exam table that the nurse had drawn the curtain around. In the better lights the angry red wheals were surrounded by a pinkness that under closer examination was the result of tiny red dots all over Justin’s torso. “I just need a shower, Brian. In fact I’d kill for one.”

“Let’s see if they can give you something topical to relive this. A shower would only be temporary,” Brian said.

“How do you feel?” Justin asked.

Brian looked at him oddly, and said, “Fine. Non-rash having. Happy I didn’t shop at ‘Twinkwear R us’.”

“I got it at Torso,” Justin said, and rolled his eyes because Brian made an ‘and there you have it face’ and added, “are we sure it was the shirt and not the sushi?”

Brian, just in time for Justin’s mom to come through the curtain surrounding the table, said, “If it was the sushi your throat would be closing up too. The location is too specific to be anything else but an allergic reaction to the dye in the shirt.”

“Mom? What are you doing here?” Justin said. “Dad? Who’s watching Molly?”

“The hospital called,” Jennifer said, “What happened?”

“A wardrobe malfunction,” Brian said, causing Justin to bark out a laugh as the doctor entered the curtained off area.

“There are too many people here, everyone but the patient go back to the waiting room,” she said.

Jennifer said, “He’s a minor.”

“I am not,” Justin said.

“Prove it,” Brian said, “by doing whatever the fuck the doctor tells you to,” and started to herd his mom back towards his dad.

Justin had to watch as Brian and his parents left together. He still didn’t know why his parents had been called and now had the added concern of what they would be talking about while they waited. His mind wasn’t put at ease when he heard his father say to his mother, “Is he wearing leather pants?”

Before they vanished back through the door to the waiting room he heard Brian respond, “You know, Craig, for a straight guy, you’re oddly fashion conscious.”

Even after the doctor sluiced off his torso with saline solution and had the nurse rub on some sort of lotion, Justin felt like crap. If this lotion stained their bedding Brian, well fifteen years ago he’d have had a queen out, now he’d use it as an excuse to buy everything new. If Justin hadn’t felt so drained he’d have gone off on whoever had called his parents but now he just wanted to go home. After pocketing the epi-pen they gave him and assuring them he had some at home as well, he was released; to round up his loved ones in the lobby.

“Honey, are you alright?” Jennifer asked.

Justin nodded and said, “Fine, sorry you were called, they overstepped.”

“What happened?” she asked as she felt his forehead.

Justin looked at Brian, because what had they been talking about if she didn’t know, and said, “The dye in a shirt caused a rash. Brian just insisted I get checked out to be safe. Sorry you got dragged down here for nothing.”

She had tears in her eyes and said, “It could have been serious, Justin, if something like this happens we want to know-”

“It’s a rash, Mom. If it had been serious, Brian would have called. It’s just a rash.” Justin said. He could see Craig was uncomfortable but didn’t know if it was because Brian looked like sex on a stick or the pants Justin was wearing or his mother being well, motherly. So he tried to change the subject, “If you’re going to see Grandmother tomorrow, will you let her know what happened, I think we’re going to give brunch a pass and wait for this to clear up.”

“Molly will be sorry she missed you,” Jennifer said.

They chatted briefly, Justin’s parents let him know they were happy he was alright and his mom made sure Brian had her number loaded in his phone and that he would call if anything happened. They separated in the parking lot and Justin begged to go home instead of looking for an all-night pharmacy to fill the lotion prescription.

+

Among the things Brian had done, when he had found himself in the past or rather as he like to think of it, a new present, was shop for health insurance. He knew with the cancer he was going to need top notch coverage and he needed coverage not tied to his job. When he formed his LLC, not Kinnetik but the one that would eventually fund Kinnetik’s start up and had ties now in little businesses all over the community, he’d found an expensive plan with top notch coverage to start as of January first and simply opted out of coverage with Ryder as of the 2001 open enrollment. So far, he and Justin were the only employees of TK Venture Capital. Given that they had reconnected on Gus’ birthday, November twenty ninth, after the close of business, Justin’s hire date was listed as the following Monday, and his coverage would start the first of the month after that hire date, which was also January first.

TKVC was currently the only contributor to the PAC Brian had formed named ‘Concerned Citizens for the Truth’ which so far mostly existed on paper, but it was a way to keep his good name out of the political arena. In the mountain of legal docs Brian had Justin sign when they were setting up medical proxies and revamping wills and powers of attorney, he’d not only made Justin a partner in TKVC he’d added him as the only other current board member of the PAC.

The insurance coverage had come up in the waiting room of the emergency room when Brian had suggested Mother and Father Taylor forward any bills from Mercy to him and advised Craig he might want to let his insurance know Justin would be covered by his own employer as of the first. Craig was curious who was employing Justin so Brian gave him some vague details about the LLC, making it sound more like something they were using for insurance purposes to get around not being able to add Justin as a spouse.

Thankfully Justin had been too miserable from the rash to be pissy about HIPPA violations by the hospital. And Brian figured sleep would be the best thing, they could fill the damn prescription in the morning. Back home, naked in bed they had reminisced about the few times in their lives they’d seriously and unequivocally not wanted sex. Other than Brian’s chemotherapy there had been a bout of poison ivy Justin had gotten when they visited the girls in Canada before they moved back, a problem with Brian’s molar that had resulted in a root canal and Justin’s hernia. Generally one or both of them had to be exhausted, in pain or oozing something for sex of any kind to be unappealing. So Brian gave him long slow kisses and petted his hair while Justin lay trying not to scratch the hives that looked slightly less angry under the pink lotion.

The next morning they showered and Brian gently brushed off the remains of the lotion. The tiny pink dots which had made Justin’s skin such a fiery red were gone, but the wheals were still vivid. Two seemed to have broken during the night, possibly due to Justin scratching in his sleep and Brian dabbed them with cotton soaked in rubbing alcohol much to Justin’s displeasure.

“Do you want it to get infected?” Brian asked.

Justin shrugged and said, “Mom always used stuff that didn’t hurt.”

“That’s stupid, how do you know it’s working if it doesn’t hurt,” Brian said.

When they dressed, Justin put on a baggy old CMU Soccer tee of Brian’s with white writing on a cardinal background. They dropped the script off and headed for the diner while waiting for it to be filled. Brian and Justin were greeted by HD squiring Emmett out with one hand on the small of his back. Emmett was glowing and didn’t look like he’d let the big man out of his sight. Justin had apparently been tipped off my Lindsay that their ongoing gay/straight debate was at an end but wanted it called on a technicality because of how in his WASPy little mind making assumptions based on stereotypes was somehow intrinsically more ethical than just asking.

Brian stretched his arm along the back of the booth, tugging at the back of Justin’s hair. He really hoped he didn’t go and Pink Possy the shaggy locks. There was nothing quite so satisfying as pulling on them while Justin was going down on him. Brian heaved a satisfied sigh as he sipped the hot coffee that had been waiting for him while Justin was examining the menu.

Ted asked, “How are the hives this morning?”

“Much better, thank you,” Justin said.

Brian snorted; sometimes Justin could be such a fucking debutante. Justin planted a discrete elbow in Brian’s ribs and asked, “Anything interesting happen after we left?”

“Same old, same old,” Ted said, “although, Emmett had an interesting overnight guest, who apparently you two know. That’s one very big boy.”

“Is that what Emmett said?” Brian asked, with a leer.

Deb showed up and did a double take and said, “Where’d Em go?”

“He had somewhere else to be, they left a five for the coffee,” Ted said.

“What can I get you two?” she asked.

“A grilled cheese, tomato soup and a vanilla milkshake,” Justin said.

Brian said, “For breakfast?”

“It’s comfort food,” Justin said.

Brian rolled his eyes and just before Deb could say she knew what he wanted he said, “Oatmeal, with maple syrup on the side.”

“Is it just that it’s New Year’s Eve or is everyone crazy?” Deb asked. At Brian’s nonplus look she elaborated, “Ted orders your breakfast, Em only gets coffee and then doesn’t stay to drink it, the kid ordered lunch and I’ve never seen you willingly eat oatmeal.”  


“Brian’s pregnant,” Ted said, and Brian kicked under the table. Deb walked away in a huff to place their orders.

“I’m not a fucking kid,” Justin muttered, and yes, he was less tolerant of Debbie than when he’d been seventeen the first time, but Brian figured it was probably the rash talking.

Brian tugged on Justin’s hair again and asked Ted, “Why did Emmett leave, or just come in for coffee for that matter?”

“I think he intended to stay and show off his conquest,” Ted said and then checked to see where Deb was before leaning over the table and saying, “In the space of two sentences, Debbie called his new beau a trick and implied that HD was a virgin that needed to be taken in hand.”

Justin gaped and said, “What the actual fuck; why?”

“Come on, that’s just the Debbie we all know and love,” Brian said. “She doesn’t mean anything.”

Justin shook his head and said, “I call bullshit. If she were out with a straight guy and I walked up and called him a trick and said she could steer him around the curves, she’d be appalled. She knows it’s not appropriated for ‘normal’ people but apparently different rules apply to her than apply to us.”

“Settle down, Pink Ranger. Get off your soapbox and have some more caffeine,” Brian said. “Lightening may strike me for saying this,” Brian said and shot Ted an amused smirk, “but sometimes straight people can be rude not because they hate us, but because they assume because they like us, they know us.”

Debbie brought their food and they nodded thanks. Justin dipped his sandwich in his soup before biting and chewing. He swallowed and said, “I don’t care if we’re her favorite zoo exhibit. The crassness that is amusing at two in the morning when you on E or drunk is not tolerable in the harsh light of day. She treats all gay men like horny fifteen year olds who like dick jokes and have no life outside the clubs.”

+

“You like dick jokes,” Ted offered, mostly to break the tension. He had gotten the impression that Deb and Michael didn’t like Justin for some reason. Ted always found Justin perfectly polite. A little too perfect, as if the country club manners were rote and the emotion behind them shallow. But all in all it was easy to see how besotted he was with Brian and oddly Brian had a tenderness that he took care to hide when he looked at Justin. It was hard to believe and Ted had been there the night they met. He’d been poleaxed when Brian had walked in with Justin the next day and the next and then to later find out Brian had moved Justin in with him, just like that. Pretty hard to believe it had only been a month, Ted like the rest of Liberty, was waiting with baited breath to see what happened next with these two.

“Not in front of my grandmother or mom,” Justin said. “Time and place, but time and place only applies to her, not our kind.”

“Take it down a thousand,” Brian said. “I get that your miserable and you itch but no ‘us and them’, not where Debbie and Michael are concerned. Give them time they’ll come around.”

Brian actually ate his oatmeal and used very little of the syrup, Justin finished his sandwich but used the soup mainly as a dipping sauce. He left about half his milk shake which appeared to prompt Brian to feel his forehead. Ted laughed as Justin swatted Brian’s hand away and said, “I’m fine.”

“Come on, let’s pick up that prescription and get you back to bed,” Brian said.

Ted asked, “I thought you were better?”

“I am,” Justin said, as Brian lifted the hem of Justin’s shirt and revealed that while the welts were not as red they were still swollen and looked sore.

“He’s going to do a PSA on the dangers of twink-wear,” Brian said.

Justin pushed his shirt down and elbowed Brian again, “You know Ted if you’re not doing anything for New-”

Brian gave him an angry glare and slapped a hand over Justin’s mouth. Justin shoved it away and said, “What? I have a rash.”

“You don’t have syphilis,” Brian said.

“I’m actually looking forward to the pole dancing contest,” Ted said trying not to laugh at these two.

Brian offered him a genuine smile and said, “Have a Happy New Year, Theodore.”

“See you next year, Ted,” Justin offered a blinding grin as they went to the register to pay.

After Brian and Justin left, Debbie stopped by and refilled Ted’s cup, “What was up with Brian lifting the kid’s shirt?” and then she laughed at the word play.

“Brian had to take Justin to the emergency room last night, he had an allergic reaction. The hives were pretty severe,” Ted said.

“Jesus, did someone call his parents?” Debbie said.

Ted asked, “Why would they, he lives with Brian?”

“He’s a kid,” she said.

“Deb, the customers here between three and six AM daily are younger than Justin and paying for their pink plate in money they got for selling their asses. Do you call their parents? Justin was emancipated before he met Brian, he doesn’t talk about why but you don’t do that lightly,” Ted said.

“Well I’d want someone to tell me if Michael was in trouble. Age isn’t important to mothers, love is,” Debbie said.

Ted nodded and said, “Debbie you are Michael’s next of kin, you’re the one they would call. I’m pretty sure; Brian is listed for Justin as his contact and proxy.”

“They just met each other!” she said.

Ted grimaced, there would be hell to pay if Brian found out he was speculating on private stuff with Debbie, who was a bigger gossip than Em, but he offered, “If you recall, they met about the time I went into a coma. I think that got all of us thinking who would be called and who would be making decisions for us. Maybe I’m wrong, or being unduly influenced by my first sight on waking being Brian screwing Justin in the next bed, but I think Justin and Brian filed documents around that time.”

“This is all moving too fast,” Deb said, “that boy is going to get a broken heart.”

Because he couldn’t resist and because he didn’t have a snarky sarcastic boyfriend to rein in his bitchiness, Ted asked, “Is that boy Brian or Justin?

 

 


	44. And the void would be calling.

After breakfast, they stopped at a fabric center and Emmett picked a sturdy upholstery weight fabric with a large navy plaid and some extra cotton batting for the recliner and navy dye for the curtains and bedspread. HD took them back to the gutted building they had left the furniture in the night before. While Emmett sorted through a collection of partially used paint cans, HD fired up a saw to cut scrap wood to back and make a frame for the mirror. Emmett found an almost full gallon of a deep slate grey that had a bluish cast to it which should be enough for the long low book shelf and Ted’s table. Emmett left HD sanding the shelves while he read the directions on a partial container of adhesive and grout they’d purchased the day before at the Habitat for Humanity resale store and sorted through the tiles he’d picked for mirror’s frame.

When the noise from the saw stopped Emmett said, “Honey, this says it has to dry twenty four hours.”

“It’ll take the paint about that time to be safe to move,” HD said. “The cyclone has a buffer attachment you can finish the mirror tomorrow and we can take this over and have the room finished.”

Although there was some heat source keeping the place from freezing, there was also a large kerosene heater HD had lit when they arrived so it was now quite cozy. Emmett watched HD work intently surprised how quickly he’d prepared the surface to paint, sure he’d used a power sander but even the shelf and rungs on the table with all their edges were sanded.

Emmett made sure he had enough tiles, by laying them out on the frame. It wasn’t a complex pattern, just six inch white tile on a diagonal snipped down to form a straight edge and a row of small one inch blue tiles on the edge and the blue and white eight by eight patterned tiles set square at each corner. Emmett lay out the tile and HD provides the tools to trim down some of the pieces. Donning gloves Emmett prepared the surface and started his mosaic, while HD used the color Em had chosen to paint the shelves and table. The grout adhesive would dry a light gray according to the container and Emmett was able to quickly place the tiles and spacers.

While the adhesive was drying enough to remove the spacers, Emmett packed up the curtains, blanket and bedspread along with the dye. HD grabbed the lamp and loaded a few things into his tool belt.

“You don’t have to come, sugar,” Emmett said, “Nothing more dull than watching clothes spin.”

HD smiled and said almost boldly, “Maybe I like the company.”

Now it was Emmett’s turn to blush. HD may look and act like all the rednecks back home but he had a quiet depth like the Mississippi River, strong and sure, with the resilience of a live oak. He hadn’t bolted after they’d done the deed either, which put him head and shoulders above the rest of the players who cruised the clubs.

Once at the laundromat Emmett followed the directions on the dye and was able to fit all the items in one large machine. While sure and able hands fiddled with the wiring to the lamp, Emmett told HD about Godiva, who HD’s cousin September had already mentioned to him, and his friends. HD told him about his brother and a band they’d played in, hot summers living out of the back of a couple pickup trucks while touring county fairs.

Emmett told him about the neighborhood and the dance clubs, riding a float in the Pride parade and volunteering at Liberty House. HD gave him a tilt of his head and a small grin and said, “You’re big city gay, aren’t you?”

Emmett let out a high pitched laugh and said, “Compared to Hazelhurst? You bet. But I don’t think I’d have done as well in New York or Los Angeles. I like the idea of seeing friends in every crowd. I don’t like the idea of being faceless when I walk down the street.”

“Never had that problem, in a graduating class of just over four hundred, there were over forty people I could suss out some form of family bond, either by blood or marriage. Everybody knew you, or your family which is the same thing, last generation’s gossip was our legend, and they’d give you dirt on everyone but yourself. That you had to get your friends to dig up,” HD said.

Emmett asked, “What was the worst they dug up?”

HD seemed to think about it and then grinned and said, “This one time, my brother came home all indignant. The mother of a friend was in dad’s graduating class and pulled out a yearbook. She was showing him pictures and flipping pages and she points to this one girl and tells him, ‘that’s the girl you dad married, before he met your mother’ and then just keeps flipping and doling out random facts, never realizing Marc’s ready to flip. The boy’s an idiot but he has one hell of a poker face so he’s like ‘oh, you don’t say. Which one again? No, never seen her picture.’ Of course when he gets home he’s all, ‘we could have a sister we don’t know about and I could end up married to her. How could they not tell us?’ Great poker face; very little common sense, so he confronts them, threw a bitch fit and Mum’s like ‘seriously, if you had siblings they’d be here. Why would we have you and not them?’ she then pointed out that Dad and this other girl been married for eighteen months and hadn’t seen each other in years so it was not an issue.”

“It sounds like home,” Em said.

“Less than thirty miles, on the banks of the lovely Youghiogheny River,” HD said, “Never really thought I’d leave.”

“Have you? Left?” Emmett asked.

“I keep clothes here, don’t know if I’ll live here once it’s done, it’s not really my style, but it’s easier to flip property here than out in the middle of nowhere,” HD scrub his hand across his chin, the blond scruff was nearly invisible but it was obvious he’d missed a shave this morning, “I still head home at least once a week; do laundry, make sure nothing comes up out of the drains in the dungeon.”

“Dungeon? Excuse me,” Emmett said.

The blush was back and HD was chucking, “Sorry.” He took a breath and said, “My place used to be the post office way back, then for a decade or so it was a branch of the library and then it was abandoned. ‘Cause, well lots of reasons mostly no one else was as stubborn or as crazy as me. The town had it up for auction a couple times and no one bought it so, I was nineteen and Jake and I were looking for a place and I somehow talked him into taking a look.”

HD had relaxed while telling the story and Emmett saw a real fondness for the memory. He tried to picture him at nineteen, wanting a building probably in worse shape than the one they were in. HD had let go of the cord he’d been working on and used his hands to shape the story as he said; “Now we knew it had one of those signs that public buildings used to have about being a designated fallout shelter, but we thought that was the basement. While this old boy from the town council was taking us through it he pulls out a handle like a cranked that fit into this metal submarine-type door way back under the stairs down to the basement. It goes down into this dark rank cave of a subbasement. Jake, who’d seen the ‘Amityville Horror’ too many times is talking we need a priest. The guy from the council is laughing too hard to tell us anything. I’m still trying to talk him into living there while we remodel and Jake’s saying he doesn’t want to live over the gateway to hell. And that’s why we call it the dungeon; we made it into storage or a guest room for people we didn’t want to see a second time.”

“What was the smell,” Emmett asked.

HD said, “A mole had crawled up the drain and died. We did have a priest bless the place just in case; Catholics,” he said with a shrug.

Emmett asked, “How long were you together?”

“Almost eight years,” HD said.

Em put his hand on HD’s knee and asked, “And how long has it been?”

“Almost two years,” HD said. “You’re worried I’m not ready?”

“You’re never going to stop grieving. Asking you to stop missing him, it would be like asking you to stop loving him,” Emmett said softly. “I believe when you love someone, really love someone, you never stop loving them. But I do believe it is possible to love more than one person, only you know if you’re ready to try.”

HD said, “I’ve always been the kind a guy to jump in with both feet. I’m willing to take a look at your world if you game to try mine.”

“So how about you and me at Babylon, tonight?” Emmett said.

HD looked incredulous and said, “Me, in a club that blast electro-techno pop? I was in a Country band, we played ‘Jergles’ and whatever that club over at Station Square is that keeps changing names.” Emmett just looked at him and he added, “I’m a really bad dancer, my flailing has been known to start bar fights.” Emmett said nothing and just smiled and HD added, “And not to sound really, really gay, but I have nothing to wear.”

“You can wear, jeans and a tee shirt, just let me see what you have here. And I won’t promise not to try to get you out on the dance floor, but you can always just watch the pole dancing contact,” Emmett said.

“Pole dancing? Will you be entering this contest?” HD said.

While the linens were drying Emmett ran across the street to the drug store, ostensibly to buy some light bulbs for the lamps, he also got a gossip rag, a couple bottles of pop and a box of the Durex XXLs, it might be wishful thinking but he was going to start stocking these. Emmett was excited that HD had agreed to brave the crowd at Babylon and wouldn’t mind if they ended up back at his place before midnight. HD may think Emmett had promised not to leave his side to put him at ease, but there was no way he was letting HD more than six inches from him in that meat market.

When he returned, HD demonstrated that the lamp now worked. And Emmett read the magazine out loud, while HD nodded, pretending he knew who the stories were about. They finished their Cokes and examined the dye job on the fabrics. There didn’t seem to be any streaking and it was all uniform shades of navy.

Back at the building, HD put a second coat on the bookcase and table, while Emmett removed the spacers and wiped off the excess grout. After that they lay down extra painting tarps and started to remove the fabric on the chair. It took a while but they got it off and Emmett spent a while getting the extra batting placed so it would be comfortable and wouldn’t bunch up. HD had obviously reupholstered before but let Emmett try; once he got the hang of the staple gun. HD was patient and Emmett liked how much control doing it himself gave him in regard to making sure the double plaid matched up. If he had been watching someone else he would have been fussing and stressed out. It took a lot longer but Emmett was very happy with the results. They had paid about a hundred dollars for the chair, fabric and batting and this would sell for at least five hundred in a store; and the one in the store would probably not be nearly as well made.

While Emmett had been working HD had tidied up locked up his supply storage and stashed most of the tools in his truck box. HD had showed him his plans for turning the building into two lofts and even asked if Emmett would help picking out colors, given his handicap. This felt different than planning a life with someone whose name he hadn’t bothered to learn. Even if it didn’t work out in a romantic sense Emmett had a feeling that like Michael and Teddy, HD would be in his life a while. Sure he was easy on the eyes and athletic in bed, but this, just this, working side by side, sharing ideas on what scope there was for improvement that would be a nice life, better than some fantasy garden cottage.

Before they left, Emmett went through HD’s clothes baskets, and that was how he kept his clothes; an in basket, and an out basket. Emmett sorted through and grabbed a pair of black jeans, unfortunately the nicest shirt HD had there was a Penguin’s jersey with ‘JAGR’ on the back. Emmett settled on a long sleeve black concert tee with the words ‘Trouble is…” on the back and Kenny Wayne Shepherd and the tour dates on the front. It was more important that HD be comfortable than sexy anyway.

They went back to Emmett’s place and showered, shaved and took advantage of Michael’s absence by fooling around on the couch until HD’s stomach growled. He asked in the sweetest, shyest way if he could take Emmett to dinner, like on a date, a real date. It was probably a bad idea, because the First Night activities had already started and the streets were filled with tourists from the suburbs. They drove in as far as Babylon and parked in a lot away from the downtown area and walked into the madness. Kids were everywhere and the whole golden triangle from Grant to the point was either blocked off or gridlocked. A woman with a baby carriage and toddler gave Emmett’s club wear the once over and opened her mouth to say something only to have her husband hush her. She glared at her husband and then turned to see what he was looking at. Apparently HD was giving the man his own glare in a ‘shut her up bro, or this will get ugly’ manner. Both of them, being tall and long legged, made moving through the crowds with ease, they took the T to the theater district, which still had crowds but since the restaurants and bars were pricier it was easier to get a table.

They were seated right up by the front window at ‘The Lemongrass Café’ which gave them an up close view of the chaos from the soothing atmosphere of trickling fountains and oriental flute music. Emmett had never had Cambodian food before and end up ordering the Haw Mook not because of how the menu described it but based on HD’s enthusiastic recommendation that it was ‘like fish meatloaf’. HD ordered a noodle dish and four appetizers for them to share, which was good because they’d missed lunch and Emmett was starving. It turned out Cambodian was spicy, similar to Thai, used a lot of coconut milk and was going to be added to the list of things Emmett liked. He’d originally thought four appetizers was a bit excessive but it gave Emmett an overview of the different flavors in Cambodian cooking since there was one from beef, chicken, pork and seafood.

When they finally made their way out of the breeder invasion and got back to the gay district, Emmett suggested they stop in Woody’s to get a drink and see if anyone else was heading out tonight. Woody’s, like the rest of the ‘burgh had been invaded but here it was the suburban gentrified gays. Emmett recognized Joe and Bing from the fundraiser and HD and he joined them for a game of pool. Bing was a talker and a bit highbrow, not like Teddy who would listen to opera when alone, Bing kept pointedly brining up trips they’d taken and that they had a much nicer pool table at home in their game room. Emmett noticed Joe and HD shared a ‘what can you do’ look and a smile as they kept their focus on the game. Joe was a solid aging Italian boy with a New York accent but he seemed to dote on Bing in a quiet ‘yeah I want to strangle him ninety percent of the time but he’s my guy’ sort of way. Apparently this was it for their big night, Joe and Bing would hang at Woody’s until eleven or so and then join the suburban multitudes on the streets.

Ted popped in as the game was near its finish and Emmett asked where Brian and Justin were. After they had another drink while Ted treated them to the harrowing story of what Brian had called ‘a wardrobe malfunction’ Ted suggested if they wanted to get in before the contest started they needed to leave now, because without Brian they could be in line all night. As they walked over HD slung an arm over Emmett’s shoulder while Emmett fretted over his part in picking out the shirt that had injured Justin. Ted was nodding sympathetically but HD said, “He should have washed it first, he’s lucky it didn’t turn him blue. Mum always says to soak new clothes in cold water with white vinegar.”

“That’s to set the colors,” Emmett said.

HD looked confused and said, “Why would I need to set colors, everything is gray.”

While Emmett explained to Ted what HD meant; they started into the alley that the club entrance faced. The line started at the door and continued back the length of the building and appeared to wrap around the corner. Emmett was going to apologize for such a poor experience since it looked like they might not get in when HD said, “Wade? Thought you moved to Cleveland?”

Wade was standing at the door to the club next to the doorman; he was smoking and had a black tee that said ‘security’ on it. “Hux? Hey man, yeah that job didn’t pan out. I was real sorry to hear about Jake. He was a good guy. Yinz guys coming here?”

“Thanks. Yeah, that’s up to Ted and Emmett we forgot to pack supplies and could starve before we make it to the door,” HD said.

“Get in here,” Wade said with a laugh and waived them through.

As they were passing to go in HD said, “If you’re looking for any daylight work have your mum give my mum a call, I’m doing a reno right out in Lawrenceville I can always find something for you.”

“Thanks man, hey, Happy New Year,” Wade said.

HD turned back as they walked down the corridor into the club and hollered, “You mean you’re not pole dancing?”

“Fuck you,” was hollered back followed by a lot of laughter from the crowd waiting to get in.

Emmett’s eyes were glued to HD as he watched him take in his first view of Babylon. The dancing boys were going all out, glitter was falling almost constantly and the lights were strobing. He tried to imagine what it would all look like in black and white. Clark Gable; Cary Grant; Rock Hudson, certainly hadn’t needed color to sell themselves as sex symbols; but he wondered if HD would get the full experience. Emmett had tried to explain the first time he’d walked though these doors with Godiva; it had been like stepping off the rainbow into Oz.

“All it needs is Munchkins,” HD leaned in and said as if reading Emmett’s mind.

Emmett did manage to get him out onto the dance floor and he wasn’t nearly as dangerous as he claimed but he was more of a swayed than a dancer. HD seemed oblivious of how intrigued the surrounding crowd was by his tall strapping body. He wasn’t however and when the contest started and they went to lean against the bar with Teddy to watch, HD pulled Emmett in front of him like a barrier. Emmett leaned back into him and said, “Let me guess, someone grabbed your ass?”

“More’n my ass,” HD growled, “can’t they see I’m with you?”

“I’ll protect you,” Emmett cooed and was pleased when HD wrapped his arms around him from behind and they settled into watch and critique the dancers. They left shortly after the contest and HD spent the night again. They had breakfast at a diner in Lawrenceville and HD loaded up the truck while Emmett buff tiles and cleaned the mirror. Emmett left it unsealed, liking the texture and color of the dried grout and figured since it was decorative and not going to be used in a bathroom it would be fine.

They suspended the mirror on bungies again and were at the Mel and Lindsay’s by noon. On their way Emmett ran in ‘Burlington Coat Factory’ on Smithfield while HD circled instead of parking. He purchased two sets of stone colored sheets, in a low thread count but all cotton and two bath groupings. He quickly checked the home décor but felt it would all be too personized but grabbed a wall clock with a dark metal patina that should match the flooring. Emmett had called to see if it was a good time to dress the room and waited until after eleven to do so because he knew they had had friends over the night before.

Shortly after they had carried everything up to the room, the girls left to go greet Gus, whom Brian and Justin were returning. Emmett made the bed while HD plugged in and set up the lamps. The modern tripod lamp was on one side of the recliner. The recliner was angled on a shorter wall near the window. The bed was built into the other shorter wall. The long low book shelf was set on one of the lengthwise walls on the side away from the bed. The mirror was rested on the floor and leaned against the other lengthwise wall, with Teddy’s table just in front of its left side. One of the matching lamps went on Teddy’s table and the other on the far left of the bookshelves, with the big blue ceramic bowl on the other. The three matching plates were mounted with wires and some pointed staples that HD hammered into the dry wall once Emmett decided where he wanted them; on the other side of the recliner from the lamp. The wall clock was mounted the same as the plates over the right side of the book shelf.

Emmett was in the process of pacing the room and wondering if he should have grabbed some throw rugs when he heard a herd tromping up the stairs. Mel was brining Brian and Justin up to look while Lindsay reacquainted herself with Gus.

“Emmett this looks awesome,” Justin said as he stepped away from the top of the stairs.

Brian checked out the closets and wandered around but remained silent. Mel loved what they did and how warm but spacious it felt. Brian finally offered, “Once you don’t need a nanny, Gus will want to live up here.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Mel said. “We’ve already been able to turn down the thermostat, we're losing less heat.”

“How do you feel about throw rugs,” Em asked Mel.

HD answered, “They collect dust.”

“No this is fine. I don’t know how you stayed on budget with all this, you even stocked the linens. Please tell me you didn’t spend any of your own money on this,” Mel said.

“No, hon, we’re on track don’t worry,” Emmett said, “Throw rugs are still in the budget if you want them.”

Lindsay came up with Gus and handed him off to Brian while she prowled around. She said, “it’s a whole new place in a week, you two should go into business.”

HD offered Emmett a side-eye look and a smile. Em caught Justin poking Brian and nodding to them and decided to deflect attention by asking how Justin was and if he was feeling better. Mel offered them a bonus in the form of tickets to the Pens vs the Caps on the third at the Arena.

“Welcome to my world,” HD told him.

Brian chuffed and said, “Emmett at a hockey game?”

“Well,” Emmett said, with an expansive gesture, “he did come to Babylon with me last night.”

“And we missed it?” Justin gasped.

HD said, “That’ll teach you to wear clothing you haven’t washed.”

“Might be I could persuade him to stop by another time,” Emmett said, causing that adorable toe scuffing motion.

“He’s going to faint the first time someone bleeds,” Brian said.

Emmett asked, “They bleed?”

“Only if their doing it right,” HD said.

 

 


	45. How d'you do, I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve - from a different POV

 

 

“No Justin?” Lindsay asked.

Brian made a face and shrugged. He said, “He’s napping. There was an allergic incident last night. He’s fine now, just cranky.”

“You sure you’re up to watching, Gus?” she asked.

Brian picked up his son and said, “Lindz, he sleeps, shits and cries, it’s not like he’s going to get liquored up and steal my car; that won’t happen until he’s thirteen.”

“That won’t happen ever, Brian,” she said, but her attention was on the two bags she was packing for Gus.

Brian nuzzled Gus and whispered, “here that Sonny boy? Mommy has no idea does she?”

By the time Brian was loaded down with all the things Gus apparently could not live without for the next sixteen hours, Lindsay had gone over a hundred last minute instructions and admonishments it was almost seven. The first guests were arriving and random dykes were checking out his genes. Gus was dozing when they arrived back at the loft and Brian left him in the carrier that detached from the bottom of the car seat frame. He left the other part still strapped into his jeep. He’d picked this one because it was versatile, Mel had been surprised when he had his own car seat but he figured now that she had it strapped in he’d leave it there until time to size up. He’d also got a stroller by the same company which would let this carrier snap right into it as well.

He put Gus, in his carrier, on the center of the dining table and unloaded the two bags Lindsay had sent. He put the premixed, God he hoped it wasn’t breast milk, bottles in the fridge and was not surprised by the number of diapers but was surprised that Gus seemed to have enough clothes to stay a couple of weeks.

He checked and saw Gus was still sleeping as he passed on his way to the bedroom. Justin was blinking up at him when Brian lounged next to him on the bed and asked, “Feeling better?”

“Still itchy but I think it’s going away,” Justin said, “Maybe we can stop and see Gram tomorrow on the way to take Gus back? I think she’d like to meet him.”

Brian kissed him, and only intended it to be short but it had been too long since they had each other and things started to get heated. Then there was a knock at the door and they groaned in stereo. “Michael’s out of town,” he offered.

“Debbie?” Justin asked.

Brian frowned, “If you weren’t such a bitch to her all the time she might be brining you chicken soup but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Gus made a squeaky cooing noise and Justin said, “I’m not a bitch, I just have boundaries. I’ll get Gus; you get the door.”

Brian rolled open the door to the sight of Jack. Shit. He hadn’t seen his dad since April when he’d stopped by and hit him and Saint Joan with the gay bomb. “Pop?” It was the cancer, earlier than before, but it had to be. “Something the matter? You need money?”

“No, I don’t need your money,” Jack said, as if that wasn’t the only reason he’d ever had time for Brian. “Gonna ask me in?”

“Sure,” Brian said and stepped aside, “can I get you a drink.”

Justin, thank God, had a shirt on and those weird loose gray pants he wore around the loft. At least he didn’t look obscenely young with his hair longer and a long sleeved tee coving his welts. Justin was looking at the two of them like violence might erupt at any minute and Brian had forgotten that Justin had never met Jack the first time. Justin was swaying with Gus, who had stopped squeaking but seemed wide awake, against his shoulder.

“You got company?” Jack said.

Brian said, “Just Gus, he’s staying here while his Moms are having a New Year’s Eve party.” Brian motioned with his head for Justin to come over. “Pops this is Justin, he lives with me. And this is Gus. He’s my son.”

“I thought you were a fag,” Jack said.

Brian smirked, “the wonderful thing about science is you don’t have to fuck someone to get her pregnant.”

“Would you like to hold your grandson, Mr. Kinney?” Justin asked, cautiously stepping closer.

Jack shook his head no, but stepped even closer, close enough that Gus’ eyes seemed to try and focus on his face. He reached one gnarled finger out and Gus’ tiny ones seemed to grip on it. Jack said, “Gus is a good name.”

“That’s what Brian said, ‘a good butch name’,” Justin offered. “I can take him into the bathroom if you two need some privacy.”

“No. I can’t stay,” Jack said. “I stop by to tell you I’m dying - cancer.”

They’d both been expecting it but Brian was surprised by how it hurt again, knowing they’d never have time to resolve all the shit between them. He thought he was past all this garbage he’d been fine without Jack the first time and he’d be damn if he let the bastard fuck up his second chance. He said, “I won’t ask if you’re sure, I know you wouldn’t be telling me if you weren’t but have you tried everything? If its money-”

“It’s not money, its’s – what it they call it when it spreads?” Jack said.

“Metastasized,” Justin offered and then added, “I lost someone recently to it. Have you been to the Hillman Center? They’re one of the top in the country-”

“No. I get what you’re doing, I think my doctor called it bargaining, something about stages but it’ll be sometime in the next month or so. There’s nothing they can do,” Jack said.

Gus started crying and Brian reached for him, saying, “Come here, Sonny boy. I got you.” As soon as he was tucked against Brian’s chest he quieted. Justin got out a bottle and nuked it for a couple seconds, shook it and tested the temperature, “I think you just squirted breast milk on yourself.” Brian offered.

“You can’t give it to him too cold, Brian. His stomach will cramp and then he’ll scream all night, not to mention be in pain,” Justin said.

“That wasn’t part of Lindsay’s hour long lecture. How do you know that?” Brian asked, and took the bottle from Justin after shifting Gus into a position to feed him.

Justin said, “Web MD.”

“You need hospice services?” Brian asked, turning his attention back to Jack once Gus started sucking. “I can find a place, for when it gets bad, you don’t want Saint Joan to be your only lifeline. I wouldn’t trust her to keep a house plant alive when she’s been in the sherry.”

“That’s no way to talk about the warden,” Jack said, halfheartedly.

Brian made a rude noise and said, “Seriously pop, if your time is measured in weeks, why not spend them in one of those old folk’s resorts with people waiting on you hand and foot. Justin’s grandmother stays in one in Shadyside, hell I’d move in if I met the age requirements. I can certainly afford it and it would get you away from being prayed over between now and whenever. Trust me, the only thing worse than being sick, is being sick and having someone pray at you.”

“What would you know about it,” Jack said, harshly.

Brian said, “I’m Joan Kinney’s son, she’s been praying over me since she found out conceiving me was in no way going to turn you into the model Catholic family man.”

“I should never have told her to get an abortion,” Jack said. Justin gasped and Brian kept his face blank but his father had never, no matter how drunk, ever indicated that he regretted taking Joan out in public to insist she get rid of Brian. Never even indicated he didn’t regret Brian had been born.

Brian shrugged and removed the bottle now that Gus had lost interest in it and handed it to Justin before saying, “Well, hindsight make geniuses of us all.”

“You should tell your mother about the kid,” Jack said as a non sequitur.

Brian chucked, turning Gus to lay along his fore arm so he could rub circles on his back, and said, “tell my devote mother about the baby I have with a lesbian, I’m not now, nor ever will be, married to? Are we trying to kill her before you go?”

“Family’s important, Brian,” Jack said, “I know we’ve never, well our family isn’t what your mother likes to present it as, but she and Claire and the boys, they’re going to be on their own when I’m gone.”

“Fuck that shit,” Brian said. “I don’t want to be in the same hemisphere with any of them, Mom has been painting me as Satan – God knows what she’ll accuse me of, or coach Claire’s little hellions to accuse me of, do not leave them to me, Pop. I got my own family to worry about.”

+

Brian assured Jack he’d pay for the funeral and told him to get back to him is he needed hospice services. Jack started to leave and head down to the club but as he was going Justin stopped him and gave him a binder, he'd put in two of his many drawings of Brian and Gus and a couple digital pictures that had been printed out.

“You’re a little young for him aren’t you?” Jack said.

Justin grinned and said, “I’m legal and he’s the best man I’ve ever met. I know he’ll bitch about it but if they ever really needed him, you know he’d be there for them. But he won’t deal with someone who hates him day-to-day, and he shouldn’t have to. I’m glad I got to meet you Mr. Kinney; and if it’s any weight off your mind, I’ll be looking after your son ‘til the day I die.”

Once the door rolled shut Justin walked over to the living room where Brian was on the couch murmuring to Gus. He sat close and watched as Gus seemed enthralled with whatever Brian was saying which as he listened was, “that’s the advantage of having dykes for mothers, they don’t tend to be overly religious. Now there are exceptions, but we’ve successfully distracted Mel from removing your foreskin so you shouldn’t have anything to worry about until you start nagging them for a tattoo. They are never going to give in on that Sonny boy, just resign yourself to no ink or piercings until you’re old enough to sign the consent forms yourself, because your old man is not throwing himself on a lesbian for you – not for that. I’ll do it if you want to play sports or bang someone or even a weird course of study, but for body mods you’re on your own.”

“I feel I should be filming these father-son bonding moments,” Justin said.

Brian looked over with a gleam of mischief and said, “Do you mind, this is a private conversation?”

“Are you okay?” Justin asked.

Brian shrugged, carefully in consideration of Gus, and said, “I knew it was coming. It’s earlier, I think last time it was what? The leather ball? So it was March and he was dead by April.” Brian said.

Justin kissed Brian and then his cheek and then his neck. Brian asked, “Killing me with kindness?”

“I just wish you didn’t have to go through all this again,” Justin said.

“Get his carrier, he’s almost out. We can watch ‘Spartacus’,” Brian said.

While Brian buckled Gus in the carrier after Justin put it on the coffee table, Justin loaded the DVD and dimmed the lights. They were both blinking awake on the couch when the sound of fireworks woke them and the loft was lit by the blue screen of the TV as the DVD had long finished. Brian checked Gus but he must have been dry. Gus quietly waved his hands and feet, perfectly content in his carrier. The two of them watched the fireworks painting the sky out the living room windows until they stopped and Justin stretched and said, “Come to bed? Wait. We’re not leaving Gus in that all night are we?”

“He’s safe, he’s strapped in. He’ll be fine on the floor next to me,” Brian said. Brian had apparently tipped the munchers off to the fact he was going to be more than a sperm donor when as soon as Lindsay had announced conception he’d gifted them with a seven hundred dollar hexagon shaped wooden crib with a custom mattress made of some space age polymer. Lindsay had told Justin that when Brian had growled that if the kid was going to be sleeping over sixteen hours a day he should be comfortable she’d been stunned he knew how long babies slept, she hadn’t known herself until she confirmed it with her doctor.

Brian moved Gus to his side of the bed and left a light on in the bathroom so, Justin supposed, neither of them would trip over Gus if they got up. They both brushed their teeth, undressed and when they got in bed, Justin rolled over to Brian and said, “I love you. Even if we have to go through all the bad stuff again it’s worth it.”

“You’re still scared, aren’t you? That you’ll close your eyes and be back there, and all this will be a dream?” Brian said. “You can’t live like that Justin. Let it go, the stress – this is now, this is us. We’re going to fight and fuck and hold it all together. Stop waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m happy. Do you know how many times in my life I could honestly say that? Right now, right here I have everything I ever needed in the same damn room.”

And then Brian was kissing him, because Brian could say more with a kiss and with his body than either of them had the vocabulary for; and strong hands turned him and reached over him for the bedside table. Suddenly and urgently Justin needed Brian more than air and he had been afraid, every mile stone every event that had shaped them or date like New Year’s came and went Justin mentally hunkered down and waited for it all to be swept away; to be taken back; to leave him empty and bereft and unable to face the next minute, the next hour, the next day without Brian in it.

The sex was urgent and fast and fulfilling. Afterwards Justin couldn’t stop touching Brian and even after Brian’s breath had formed a slow steady rhythm Justin lay awake listing to his heart beating into the night.

Justin woke to Brian’s voice indistinct out in the kitchen area. He pulled on the yoga pants he’d tossed by the bed the night before and shuffled toward the gurgling coffee maker and as he got closer he heard Brian sing, “So we open up a quarrel; Between the present and the past; We only sacrifice the future; It's the bitterness that lasts.”

Brian stopped as he approached and said, “He’s a morning person. He did not get that from me.”

Justin smiled and kissed Brian’s bare shoulder, performed the quick carafe juggle with the coffee maker; and buried his face in his mug. “Please give me some of that,” Brian said.

Justin dumped some sugar in and held the mug to Brian’s mouth before carefully tilting it. Brian slurped and then said, “Thank you, he cries whenever I try to put him down.”

“How long have you been up?” Justin said and checked the clock on the microwave. It was nine thirty.

Brian said, “Couple hours, he ought to be falling asleep soon. He ate, I changed his diaper. I can’t believe he’s still awake. If he’s getting sick Lindz’ll kill me.

“Give. You get coffee and go take a shower. We’ll be fine,” Justin said. He checked but Gus didn’t feel warm or anything.

By the time Brian showered, shaved and emerged from the bedroom in jeans and a sweater; Justin and Gus were exchanging a series of blinks and it was only a matter of time before one of them dozed off. “Here,” Brian said, “If you fall asleep you’ll drop him.”

Justin completed the hand off, got more coffee and stumbled his way to the bathroom. He showered, the need to shave was really more wistful thinking but he did it anyway and dressed. “Think it’s too soon to wake, Elizabeth,” Brian asked. “Since its technique a holiday, maybe Redstone’s putting on a spread?”

“Beats cooking,” Justin said, “What do you say Gus? Wanna acquire some doting grandparents?” Looking closer Justin realized Gus was a sleep and Brian noticed as well and used the opportunity to buckle Gus back into his carrier. Shoes and socks were found and they bundled up and packed Gus’ bags including the bottles from the fridge.

“Why do you think she sent so many clothes?” Brian asked.

Justin looked at him and asked, “Is that the same outfit she gave him to you in?”

“Yeah,” Brian said, and at Justin’s exasperated look said, “What? He hasn’t been crawling on the floor or rolling in the mud – other than barf or shit what can he do to it? He doesn’t sweat.”

“We have to change it, she’ll think we didn’t take care of him,” Justin said.

Brian shook his head firmly and said, “Hell no, I just got him to sleep. He’s clean, he’s fed and he’s too damn little to be fashion conscious. New Kinney family motto: If no one is screaming leave it the hell alone.”

“We can change him at Grams,” Justin said. “He’s sure to fill a diaper before we give him back; from now on though we change him every time we change him.”

Brian rolled open the door after shouldering the bags and Justin draped the blanket over Gus and his carrier before bringing him along. Brian griped, “That au pair better start soon.”

“You love having him,” Justin said on the way down in the elevator.

Brian said, “I’d love it more if he came with a valet.”

Once they were at Redstone, Brian lost all his fans in the postmenopausal set to his son, and didn’t seem unhappy about it at all. Gus was cooed over both before and after he woke, they fed, change and picked one of the many outfits to redress him in. All Brian and Justin had to do was eat breakfast and let the ladies do all the work. Brian excused himself to check at the community’s office for information in case he needed to house a terminal cancer patient there. He said, Justin had impressed him with the description of Stella’s last days and Brian believed in death with dignity, even or maybe especially for his dad.

Justin entertained Bertie and Elizabeth with the story of his ‘wardrobe malfunction’ and his parents showing up at the ER. They ate their fill and bundled Gus back into the Jeep before heading to Mel and Lindsay’s shortly after noon.

When Brian handed off the carrier to Mel she started to take Gus out and he said, “leave him, no need to wake him he was just changed.”

“Don’t you want your car seat back,” Mel asked.

Brian looked blankly before saying, “so I can ride other babies around?”

Justin who had been helping Lindz take care of their coats rolled his eyes. Lindsay asked him quietly, “What’s he so crabby about? Did Gus keep you up all night?”

“Jack stopped by,” Justin said and at her look of concern he whispered, “He’s dying, cancer.”

“Why would he even bother?” she asked,

Justin shrugged and said, “I think he wants Brian to take care of the family once he’s gone.”

Now it was Lindsay’s turn to roll her eyes she said, “Because they’ve done so much for him.”

“What are you girls whispering about?” Brian asked.

Lindsay said, “I want you two to see the attic, Emmett did a wonderful job. Can you believe that this has all happened since Christmas Eve?”

“Come on,” Mel said as she handed the carrier with Gus to Lindsay.

Justin figured he would tell Brian on the way to the loft that he’d broken the news to Lindsay. Hopefully she’d take care of updating anyone who needed to know. Brian sometimes isolated himself too much and he knew despite Brian thinking Lindsay dyked him up too much that he could talk emotions with her better. Being a man, no matter how much he loved Brian, there would always be a desire to out macho each other and sometimes they both needed to show weakness. He had Elizabeth and to some degree his friends at school. But there were so few people Brian would admit weakness to and Lindsay had always been one of them.

Climbing to the third floor they found Emmett fretting and HD in clothes that actually went together.

Justin stepped into the room, there was a huge expensive looking mirror leaning against the wall almost floor to ceiling, knowing the budget he was impressed and said, “Emmett this looks awesome.”

He watched Brian walk around and check out the storage in the under the bed platform and look in the closets. When he opened the one with shelves Justin could see a set of bed linens and a couple sets of towels all in navy blue. Finally Brian said, “Once you don’t need a nanny, Gus will want to live up here.”

And Justin could see fifteen year old Gus lounging in front of a TV or gaming system, away from his little sister and moms.

Mel looked amused and said, “I hadn’t thought of that.” She added, “We’ve already been able to turn down the thermostat, we're losing less heat.”

Emmett said abruptly, “How do you feel about throw rugs.” Apparently it was a matter of concern and possibly the reason he’d been fretting when they arrived.

“They collect dust,” HD said, sounding menacing but looking on indulgently as Emmet rung his hands.

Mel reassured them, “No this is fine. I don’t know how you stayed on budget with all this, you even stocked the linens. Please tell me you didn’t spend any of your own money on this.”

“No, hon, we’re on track don’t worry,” Emmett said, “Throw rugs are still in the budget if you want them.”

Lindsay came up with Gus and handed him off to Brian while she prowled around. She said, “It’s a whole new place in a week, you two should go into business.”

Justin watched Em and HD exchange a look and oh my god, he was gay; and not just in theory. Justin poked Brian who smirked and Em asked, “How’s that allergy sweety, Teddy said you were a real mess.”

“I’m all better, you can barely see where the hives were,” Justin said.

“Listen, we really appreciate what you’ve done. If we had more money in the budget, well we don’t but we do have tickets to the next Penguins game at the Arena. We’d like you to have them,” Mel said

HD smiled, and he really was a good looking man, and said to Em, “Welcome to my world.”

“Emmett; at a hockey game?” Brian said with a snort.

Emmett looked enormously please with himself and said, “Well he did come to Babylon with me last night.”

“And we missed it?” Justin gasped.

HD said, “That’ll teach you to wear clothing you haven’t washed.” Was it too much to have hoped for that he hadn’t known? And what would it cost him to get HD to keep from leaking it to Sep who would pass it on to everybody.

“Might be I could persuade him to stop by another time,” Emmett said and HD seemed to like the possessive look Emmett was offering up.

Brian, of course didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, so he drawled, “He’s going to faint the first time someone bleeds.”

“They bleed?” Emmett asked, looking like he might faint now.

“Only if they’re doing it right,” HD said.

  


 

 


	46. See you've met my

 

School restarted January eight. And Daphne had hosted a luncheon/panic party for the gang on the fourth, Justin appreciated the support when they logged in and printed SAT scores but could have done without the pedicure and back-to-back chick flicks the accompanied pizza and pop in the Chanders’ rec room. He’d scored a fifteen sixty and now had an acceptance letter for CMU in the fall.

After their normal Sunday brunch on the sixth, they had to make an appearance at Debbie’s house, together. She’d asked on New Year’s Eve for New Year’s Eve and Brian had declined with previous commitment, so she insisted the next Sunday they be there. Michael and David had been there too but there seemed to be trouble in paradise. From what Michael had shared previously at Woody’s New Year’s Eve spent with David’s older friends had made him feel like a slutty club boy. Debbie must have sensed this and started to pry, despite David being right there. Justin ignored her until she tried to bring Brian in it and then he froze her out and turned the conversation to her love life or lack thereof. Brian and Michael had exchanged shocked and uncomfortable glances but said nothing and Debbie changed the subject herself and started to brag about how much Vic had been doing for Liberty House and that he may be asked to sit on the board.

Before Justin knew it winter break was over and given how much they’d seen of each other over the break it was ridiculous that the girls swamped him as if he’d just been released from prison when Brian dropped him off in front of the school.

So much for the administration ignoring him, Justin thought, as Daphne greeted him with a clipboard and a sign-up sheet. September’s contact with Godiva and all the girls having shared table space with volunteers from the GLC and Liberty House had prompted them to form a Gay Straight Alliance at St. James. This was what happened when he refused participate in a slumber party with them. He remembered how well Daphne and his attempt had gone the last time. However this time they were armed with a copy of the school charter and allegedly, any student organization could be formed in the first two weeks of the new semester, provided they had at least eight members and a faculty sponsor. They were six and Monica had already talked to Mr. Omler, the art teacher, and he had agreed so all they needed were two more members.

They were lounging in their spot by the window strategizing. Well September was in the process of trying to get Tracy and Daphne, to strong arm Paul and Andrew to at least sign up for it if not attend. Paul played soccer and actually liked Tracy and had been trying to find a way around the no dating in high school restriction most of the year. Daphne argued she couldn’t since she was still in the ‘casual running into stage’ with Andrew. Justin privately thought wasn’t as straight as he claimed to be if he hadn’t asked Daphne out after the girls had attended his swim practice. Both had the double edged sword of being jocks, they had reputations that should prevent any blatant bullying, but had far more social capital to lose by signing up.

Niles Anderson was half way down the hall at his locker and Justin had an idea. He said, “Ladies, I think you need to fix your makeup. I’ll watch your backpacks. Sep, on the way, tell Niles I need to ask him something.” Five sets of eyes looked at him like he’d lost his mind, “Now. Shoo.”

“I’m not wearing makeup,” Monica said.

Justin said, “Well, you can fix that, go on.”

The girls headed toward the closest lavatory with September making a brief detour to Niles.

Niles looked over and then approached cautiously and said, “Dae said you wanted to see me?”

“Hear me out,” Justin said. “Daph is starting a gay straight alliance, or trying to; she needs a minimum of eight names. You’re already getting shit almost daily from Hobbs and his buddies. The purpose of the club is to reduce stuff like that or to build a support network for when it happens. Truthfully, I don’t think any straight guys in their right mind would join, unless some girl is leading them by the short and curlies. But if there was a straight guy who would find it advantageous if the whole school started to assume he was gay, he might want to put his name down.”

“Did you tell them?” Niles said, sounding oddly calm but paling considerably.

Justin laughed, “No, I only tell them things I want spread all over the school. I love them like sisters but seriously I have a sister, she can’t keep a secret either. I’m not blackmailing you; I just wanted you to know there was an option.”

Niles wasn’t in AP Calc for nothing, he briefly considered it and then shrugged and said, “Yeah can’t hurt.”

Justin handed him the clipboard and as he was signing Justin motioned to Tracy, who had been peeking around the entrance to the ladies room and popped back in, probably to sound the all clear. She then skipped down the hall to hug Niles from behind, before taking the clipboard from his hand and said, “One more, one more, I’m going to go make Paul sign up.”

Tracy dashed off without her knapsack or purse, waving the clipboard over her head as she zipped between the students walking up and down the hall.

The other girls welcomed Niles to the alliance and Niles backed away before more of them could hug him asking to be notified of when/if they were having a meeting. Justin looked at Daphne and remembered all she’d done for him in the past, or the future that may never happen, just like last time she’d probably pass this off as something that would look good on her school applications or CV. But she really was more of a social reformer than him. He should have listened to her more. When that silly pink posse had formed and she asked to join, once again his smarter half was pointing out subtly that any group that claimed to do good by excluding was a bad idea.

Daph must have caught him looking because she hugged him and said, “We already have a project for the alliance. But we can’t talk about it here. We’re all going to Tracy’s after school. We need you there.”

“Okay,” Justin said, warily, the last ‘project’ had ended with him having pink toenails and Brian laughing his ass off but yeah he’d just been thinking how much he loved her, so he was willing to risk it. At least his hair wasn’t long enough to braid. And no matter how good it felt when Brian had a grip on it, it never would be.

Paul was well and truly whipped, or Tracy had sold him that the Alliance after school activities could involve dinner and movies and necking in parked cars and still not be considered dates. However, Paul was not the lucky guy who got shanghaied into super-secret special meetings and would probably never show up with pink toenails.

School was routine for the first day back until Mr. Dixon asked Justin and Hobbes to stay after class. This prompted both Niles and Daphne to pointedly loiter in the hallway, watching though the window in the classroom door. Dixon handed them their exams from before break and said, “You were both off when we went over these. Taylor, you want to explain to me how you’re one of the only ones to pass, let alone get a B+?”

Justin was surprised, not so much that he got a B+ but that no one else had, even if they missed all the problems from this semester that hadn’t been covered yet, that should still have been a C, and this class did have the advanced students. Justin paged through his exam, looking for any red ink. Absently he said, “We took the exam the Friday before SATs. I’ve been studying for SATs all year, I probably never knew the material better than then.”

“You just happened to know this because you were studying for SATs?” Dixon said with distain. “You’ve never been this good at math.”

“I’m in AP Calc, and if I got the highest score, who would I have cheated off of? Wasn’t it a surprise test?” Justin asked.

Dixon pushed, “None of your previous grades support this.”

“I got 1560 on my SATs,” Justin said and then added, “sir.”

Hobbes looked shocked and out of the corner of his eye Justin saw a red D on his paper. Dixon growled, “I want you to both to know I’m available to go over any problems that you missed.”

Justin looked at Dixon like he’d just offered to remove one of Justin’s testicles, and Hobbes said thank you. When they left the room, Niles gave Hobbes a wide berth and Daphne fell on Justin hissing, “What did he want?”

“He just gave back the test we took, you remember on all the stuff we hadn’t covered yet,” Justin said.

As they walked down the hall, all three late for their next class, Niles asked, “How’d you do?”

“Alright,” Justin said, “Well enough to be accused of cheating. Guy’s a dick. He couldn’t have handed this back in class? Everything is a power play with him. He needs serious therapy.”

They split up and went to their next class. After school it became apparent that Niles hadn’t been invited to the super-secret alliance meeting at Tracy’s either. So it was just a girl thing; Justin saw more bowling in his future.

September and Daphne drove and as the six of them wandered through the ground floor of Tracy’s house Justin was not permitted to take off his coat and he was practically frog-marched by Daph and Sep out the back, while Monica and Brittney scampered across the patio around the covered pool and into the pool house.

It was too cold to be ushered out to the pool house and it didn’t escape Justin’s notice that Daphne and September had firm two-handed grips on each of his biceps and that Tracy was either doing the ‘I gotta pee’ dance or about to expire from excitement. They dragged him through the door. There were pizza boxes stacked on a coffee table, two futons, a kerosene heater pumping away, a television on the floor and a gaming system crackling odd sound effects from the television’s speakers. More importantly there was a skinny, shaggy blond curled up with his attention focused on the screen. Justin felt his heart stop and his breath catch, because Jesus Christ, Hunter Novotny-Bruckner, in the flesh. This wasn’t the cocksure annoying sixteen year old who helped solve the murder of dumpster boy – this kid looked to be ten or so. Justin did math and realized he had to be about thirteen but fucking A he looked painfully young. The only johns who would touch him needed to be turned into chum posthaste.

“Explain now,” Justin said.

“This is Hunter. We were going to stop and see you after that sleep over, the one you wouldn’t come to because Brian gave you so much shit over your last pedicure,” September said.

Justin corrected, “Only.”

Just as Hunter said, “Dude you get pedicures?”

“Give them time, jailbait,” Justin snapped.

“Justin!” Tracy said, “Listen this is important. We went to the strip, early; we were going to wake you and make you come to breakfast. But we found Hunter sleeping on a grate. He could have died, Justin. So we brought him here.”

“What the actual fuck!” Justin said. “This is a person you can’t just keep him like a stray dog. Oh, God. I can’t know about this. This is kidnapping. We could all be in so much trouble.

“Shut up!” Monica yelled; all eyes turned to her. “We’re keeping him.” Jesus, Monica who could spend her whole lunch period trying to decide between ginger ale and orange soda and have the bell ring before she choose just made a unilateral decision.

“Mon,” Justin said, “I appreciate you have a big heart, but he can’t stay in one room for the rest of his live and if anyone finds out and reports it, Tracy’s parents will be in big trouble – the kid will get yanked back home or thrown into the system anyway and given he’s obviously a flight risk, will end up right back on the street.”

“Hey! The kid; is right here. I didn’t just decide to live the glamorous life on my own; it’s safer there making my own money than doing the same for my mom,” Hunter said without taking his attention off the screen. But he wasn’t the jaded sixteen year-old and Justin could see how scared he was. Christ.

“You got a dad?” Justin asked.

Hunter shrugged and said, “according to my mom, no. But she’s a lying cunt whose only concerned about her next fix; so who knows.”

“Let me go,” Justin said and after Sep and Daphne let go of his arms he shrugged off his messenger bag, unbuttoned his coat and paced the floor. He ran his hand through his hair and looked from the girls to Hunter and wished he wasn’t a fucking adult. Would just slumping onto the futon and playing whatever version of ‘Grand Theft Auto’ this was be an option?

Brittney said, “What do we do, Justin?” Apparently not.

He wanted to bark at her that this was not the great cookie debacle but he took a deep breath and pulled on his hair because if he was figuratively pulling his hair out why not literally too.

“How long you been working?” Justin asked.

And that question brought Hunter’s attention away from the screen and caused him to look at the girls who were mostly looking puzzled. Well, not Sep, but she had a good poker face and not Tracy because she was probably off in her own world or plotting how to keep the kid hidden for the next five years.

Hunter said, “It’s not a regular thing-”

“Yet,” Justin interrupted. “It won’t get better on its own. When did you last get screened?”

“Huh?” Hunter said, and Justin closed his eyes and sent up a silent prayer.

Daphne, always the smartest said, “Justin what-”

“Okay,” Justin said, cutting her off, because this kid wasn’t bold or brash and well, they’d figure it out but he wasn’t going to tell them in front of Hunter. “Here is what’s going to happen. Daph, go on-line and find the nearest testing places and either you or Sep drive by and see which ones are the busiest. I don’t think we should do this around Liberty Avenue. If I were social service, Liberty would be the one I watched for runaways. Everybody who is thinking about having sex before next Christmas will join you and September and go for a screening with Hunter, if it’s a big group they’re less likely to remember anyone or think it’s serious.”

“But I haven’t had any sex, why should I get screened?” Daphne asked.

“Well if they ask at the clinic you explain you’re involved with the Gay Straight Alliance and you want to give a report on what’s involved and you want to go through it to set an example of proper responsible behavior for sexually active individuals. And if you can’t man up and get screened then you don’t need to be sexually active,” Justin said. “And you buddy, will be getting screened every three months for the next couple years, regardless of what your test says. Ladies, distract the staff by asking questions, ask for literature for your ‘project’ hell ask for condoms to pass out.”

Justin pulled out his phone and scrolled though his contacts and said, “I’m going to feel out a lawyer and see if I can get any idea what rights Hunter has and if there is a way to get him back in school safely and keep him away from his mom. I don’t think Hunter should go anywhere but the clinic before we get legal advice but one of you needs to do some shopping. Get his sizes and get him some decent shoes and some clothes, and stop by the bookstore see about test prep books for placement exams and get him some – what are you eighth, ninth grade?”

“I should be a freshman but we’ve been in transit most of the year. Mom changed boyfriends and we’ve been kicked out, I haven’t been in school much,” Hunter said.

“Okay, check the homeschooling section, get him all the freshman recommended and grab some more advanced – it’ll give him something to do besides gaming and maybe we can keep him from being left back,” Justin said, “September, I am trusting you with this credit card, buy clothes and books and toiletries but do not use it at the clinic. We need cash for that,” Justin said and pulled out his wallet, he only had two hundred but he gave it to Daph who said she and Sep would hit the ATM.

“This is Brian’s,” Sep said, looking at the card.

Justin glared, “Trusting you, do not lose it; or give it to the PS2 addict.”

“Hey!” Hunter said.

“Can you guys give us a minute?” Justin said.

Monica’s moment of decisiveness was over as she did a shuffle like she wanted to stay with Hunter and wanted to leave with the girls. “It’s guy talk, Mon, like when you all start going on about your periods. Just stuff you won’t want to hear.”

“Justin’s okay,” Monica said to Hunter, “he takes care of us,” and she left too.

After they left Hunter asked, “What are you; their pimp?”

Justin didn’t so much as roll his eyes. He stayed where he was with most of the length of the pool house between them. He heaved a sigh and said, “So. You have some options and you don’t have to decide right away, they can keep you hidden for a little while I suppose. Do you think your mom has reported you missing?”

“I don’t know if she knows yet,” Hunter said, oddly subdued and not like the smart ass who had flirted so outrageously with Brian. “I’ve disappeared for a couple days before; she might think I’ve crashed with friends.”

“Any idea how long before your school notifies her you’re truant?” Justin asked. “Cause she should be getting in trouble.”

“We move so often to keep ahead of debt and the cops that the school probably can’t find her to tell her I’m not there,” Hunter said.

“Listen, I have a short fuse when people treat me like a kid, so I get it if you want to bitch at me for doing the same, but you honestly are too young to be making some of the decisions that need to be made. Decisions that once they’re made you can’t unmake and could cause you a boatload of shit down the road,” Justin said. “I’m not really qualified to even advise you, which is why I want to talk to a lawyer. But off the top of my head I see one way to keep your mom from getting you back and that’s getting her arrested, not just for drugs but for forcing a minor to have sex – that’s a very serious offence. That should not only get her jail time but even if she’s out on probation should ensure she is never granted unsupervised visits with you.”

“I recommend telling the truth,” Justin said, hesitating but knowing what he would want in Hunter’s place and, being that Hunter wasn’t from the uber-manipulative WASP country club set, offered this kid the idea - if not actually condoning it. “After all, if you were to imply she had sex with you herself, she could be registered as a sex offender for the rest of her life, it would impact her employment potential, see that she is forced to stay away from schools and day care centers and have her name and address published online so that concerned parents could keep their kids away from her. You would never want to do that if it was untrue. Because if you said something like that and then retracted it you would never regain your credibility. Now the danger is once she’s arrested you could get lost in the system, which is why I want to look into the matter with a lawyer before we risk exposure and see if we can find a place, a safe place, that they won’t pull you out of, and unfortunately a pool house with five teenaged girls, might be some sort of MTV fantasy for a straight guy, but we’ll never sell it to social services.”

Hunter chuckled and Justin had forgotten what a heartbreaking smile he had. Justin walked over to within about four feet of him, his coat open and his hands in the pockets of his uniform pants and said, “Let me ask you a couple questions, I’ll try to keep them yes or no but I want to know what I should be presenting the lawyer with. Are you a virgin?”

“No,” Hunter said.

Justin tried not to sound like Joe Friday but he wanted to get through this without barfing, “Have you ever had sex for drugs or money.”

“Yes,” Hunter said.

Justin asked, “Was your mother aware of that?”

“Yes,” Hunter said.

Justin asked, “Did she tell you to do that?”

“Yes,” Hunter said.

Justin asked, “Did she get paid when you had sex?”

“Yes,” Hunter said.

Justin asked, “Did she ever hit you?”

“Yes,” Hunter said.

Justin asked, “Did she ever physically force you to have sex?”

“Yes,” Hunter said.

Justin asked, “Did she ever have sex with you?”

Hunter hesitated and looked away and looked back at Justin and said, “Yes she did, but she’ll say she didn’t, she was just too high to remember.”

Justin was pretty sure, based on watching how he acted and looked when he responded to the previously questions that Hunter was lying, but figured that enough choices had been taken from this kid, that if he wanted to take vengeance on his mother Justin most certainly was not going to stop him. So he said, “If you could be kept safe, would you like to press charges? Keep in mind that will involve being interviewed by the police and you may have to testify in court.”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut, if it keeps me out of juvie, but I want the bitch to pay,” Hunter said.

“Okay, as I’m sure you’re aware the girls are terrifying, the disease screening is necessary, even if you religiously used protection,” Justin said, and sent a silent pray the kid didn’t have it already. Seriously he wanted to go back to the loft and curl up in a ball and cry; even if Brian ridiculed him. “Don’t run; give us a couple days to see if we can figure this out.”

Justin waved the girls back in and checked his watch; how could it only be a quarter after four? He was exhausted. Daphne and Sep had gone back into the main house to use Tracy’s computer to research clinics. Tracy and he went to find them while, Mon and Britt stayed with Hunter. Daphne then left to check out the clinics in person and decided she would pick one and they would all go right after school tomorrow. Sep went to get Hunter’s sizes and she was just going to the Big Q to get necessities.

Justin’s first call was to Margret Aulwright the social worker who had helped him file his emancipation. He was surprised to get her on the line as he was expecting her voicemail and may have revealed more than he intended. He let her think that the kid was still out on the street and his friends had just given him money but he told Hunter’s story and asked what would need to be in place for him to be able to stay somewhere while pressing charges as opposed to being dumped into the system. Margret recommended finding him a home, with his own room, and adult supervision. Preferably a male and female, she said pointedly knowing Justin was gay, who had been together for a number of years. She said that there was nothing official but over thirty would be perceived as able to provide more stability and guidance for a child. She also gave him the name of a lawyer who could help.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Justin said. “I know given the situations you normally deal with you work with a lot of state and county employees and pro-bono work. But if money were no object who’s the shark you’d hire, someone who specializes in the rights of a child. I get that thirteen is too young to be emancipated, he shouldn’t have to make some of the decisions this, pardon my French but ‘cluster fuck’, is going to result in, but the cards are dealt and if we can find him somewhere he feels safe, a couple that fits the requirements you stated is there a lawyer who can keep him out of the system - especially if we find someone to finance the kid’s expenses?” Justin said.

“You mean like a father?” she asked.

Justin said, “God I hope not that would be one more variable, I was thinking like a patron or a private trust.”

“Well there would still be a social worker assigned to monitor them but funds are always scares and if someone is footing the bill a judge would be reluctant to put him on the county rolls,” Margret said, “and the best children’s rights attorney I know is Mason Waynewright.” The firm she said he was with was Mel’s firm which was understandable they did specializing human rights.

After getting off the phone with Margret he called and left a message for Mr. Waynewright and then called Brian. Cynthia put him right though and he asked, “Can you pick me up after work?”

“Where are your chauffeurs?” Brian asked.

Justin was very conscious of Tracy listening and didn’t want to go into the Hunter details where she might pick up on their pre-knowledge of the situation. He said, “Out on missions. Listen, I have a lot to lay on you when we’re safely alone. Somethings up.”

“Sure I was thinking of heading out anyway, where are you?” Brian asked.

“I’m at Tracy’s,” Justin said.

Brian asked, “She’s the one off Old Mill Road in Fox Chapel right, the gated community?      

 

“Yeah, I’ll have her call the gate and let them know you’re coming, thanks,” Justin said.

“Later,” Brian ended the call.

“Trace?” Justin started.

“I’ll call,” she said and picked up the house phone.

Justin made another call. “Vic? Justin Taylor, is this a bad time?” Justin asked after Vic greeted him. When Vic said he had nothing but time, Justin said, “I wanted to talk to both you and Debbie, when would be a good time for both of you?”

“Debbie’s at the work but she should be home around seven today. What’s it about?” Vic asked.

Justin was hesitant to lay it all out, and not just because Tracy was listening so he said, “I heard that Deb’s been taking extra shifts and might need a way to make extra money. I know someone who needs to rent a room but there’s more to it than that. It would involve both of you acting loco parentis for a minor.”

“I assume that doesn’t translate to ‘crazy parents’ not that we’re not aptly qualified for that,” Vic said.

Justin smiled; he really had missed Vic’s quiet humor the world had been a darker place once his light had been extinguished. Justin said, “As a member of the St. James Straight Gay Alliance, I’m not approaching you as Michael’s family, despite having designs on his old bed room, but as the President of PFLAG and a dedicated volunteer at Liberty House. The Alliance has taken on a service project if you will,” and Justin glanced over into Tracy’s unblinking blue gaze and said for her benefit as well, “we rely on you utmost discretion regarding this information but we’re trying to find placement for a thirteen year old male whose mother has been trading his sexual services for drugs and money.”

At Vic’s startled gasp and Tracy’s dropped jaw Justin continued, “We’re in the process of seeking legal advice on the best way to keep him out of the system and make sure he doesn’t get sent back to his mother. But it would be helpful if when we approach the officer of the court for advice we can assure him the minor has a stable household to live in. Listen, there are more details you need to know before you make the decision can you check with Debbie and get back to me on a good time to go over this with both of you in person?”

Justin knew Vic had his number from the cookie sales but gave it to him again and when he got off the phone looked at Tracy and said, “No one hears about this, not even the rest of the girls. If we’re very lucky we can get his records sealed but he shouldn’t have this thrown in his face for the rest of his life.”

Tracy nodded and looked about to cry. Tracy had gone to the best schools since she could toddle. Justin often thought her flakiness was a result of going from private school to gated community to organized activates and never being exposed to the real world. No wonder the characters in the movies and on TV were so real to her, she was almost eighteen and couldn’t date and was usually under lock and key. He wondered if she’d be allowed to live on campus when she started school in the fall.

“I won’t tell,” she said finally, “not even Sep.”

Justin pulled her into his arms and felt old. Jesus Christ, had he gone through this kind of drama at their age? It hadn’t seemed like it. He’d been riding high on sex and, well, Brian - somethings never changed. But he’d missed how he could have ended up like Hunter. He remembered saying he’d go to New York and be a rent boy. Hell what if he hadn’t stolen Brian’s credit card. What would have happened to him if they hadn’t found him?

It wasn’t too long before the gate called to let them know Brian had come through and Justin left Tracy in charge with instructions to call him if anything unexpected happened, otherwise he would see her at school.

Brian greeted him with, “what’s going on?” as they pulled away from Tracy’s home which reminded Justin a lot of Brinton but with less land surrounding it.

“You might want to wait until you’re not driving. Do you want to stop at ‘Tai Pei’?” Justin asked. Suggestion it because it was so close, right where Old Mill met Freeport.

Brian grimaced and said, “Please tell me you kids aren’t building bombs.”

“Kids? Please tell me you didn’t go there,” Justin huffed. “Do not run us off the road, but the girls stumbled on one Hunter Novotney-Bruckner, who is currently still occasionally living with his mom. Jesus, Brian he’s looks about ten years old and she’s already selling him – you know the fucking low-life’s that appeals to.”

“They want to try and get him out of that house?” Brian asked as he pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant.

“You misunderstand me, when I said they stumbled on him. He was sleeping on an exhaust vent; they picked him up and took him home like a stray cat,” Justin said, “Their keeping their very own pet boy in the pool house.”

Brian snorted and then said, “Do they have a plan for when Rodger Payne finds out?”

Justin’s phone vibrated and he checked the number and held up a hand to Brian as he took the call, “Hello? Yes, thank you for getting back to me so promptly, Mr. Waynewright.” The hand morphed into a middle finger as Brian rolled his eyes at Justin’s manners. “I’m a client of Ms. Marcus, but you name was given to me by Margret Aulwright in regard to a matter of some delicacy. In the course of doing some volunteer work, a friend of mine came in contact with a minor in danger; naturally our first instinct is to get the child into a safe place. However, there’s a fine line between rescue and kidnapping. The minor is currently living on the streets and very skittish of social services. We think if we can assure him that while criminal charges are being pursued against his only guardian, his biological mother, that he would be able to attend school and live outside the system under paid adult supervision, we would be able to get him to talk to the police, social workers and see a therapist. Margret said you’re the best at defending the rights of a child and have contacts at a number of organizations both private and public that can see that the minor’s voice is heard. I can pay you, your firm already is on retainer to me and I can afford to pay you for your time. I have a line on adult supervision for the minor. Will you take this case?”

While Justin listened to the response Brian made an impatient hand motion and Justin thought it might mean he should put the phone on speaker but the call was wrapping up so he held up a wait finger. He then said, “One o’clock is fine, I’ll see you then.”

“Cutting tomorrow?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “I’ll just tell the office in the morning I have a meeting with my lawyer, they’ll love that.”

They went into ‘Tai Pei’ and since it was so early immediate were seated by the large fish tank. “What’s this line on a place with adult supervision, not David and Mikey right?”

“Michael hasn’t seemed very adult-like but David would actually be good at it, Hunter isn’t much older than Hank,” Justin said. “I called Vic; he’s going to get back to me on when I can meet with him and Deb to pitch the deal.”

“You’re not Deb’s golden boy anymore,” Brian said. “What makes you think she’ll do it?”

“Well we know she’s in debt, not just because we’ve been here before but she hasn’t made all those extra shifts a secret,” Justin said. “Hunter needs a strong male role model. If it can’t be Ben, I think Vic’s a good choice. It might be good for both of them, Vic needs to feel useful and he’s home all day when not volunteering at Liberty House. He’ll be able to devote time to Hunter and take him with him to volunteer at Liberty House. “

“I seem to remember Vic has a criminal possession charge on his record, he took the rap for Deb, and if the whole mall thing goes down that could trip up their qualifying,” Brian said.

“I didn’t know about the drugs, but maybe if he’s with Hunter all the time he won’t be at the mall or won’t be alone when he is,” Justin said. “Look they haven’t agreed. But I can afford to pay his room and board and a stipend for clothing and essentials. Oh, Sep has you card, she went to the Big Q for underwear, socks and stuff like that – she swore she’d be careful.”

“You know it’s only in my name because you have no credit history, once you’re on campus and over eighteen they’ll be paying you to open up credit with everyone,” Brian said.

Dinner was nice, quiet and their talk moved to their planned trip to New York the next week end. A trip they were both looking forward to for different reasons. They laughed over Emmett’s reaction to his first hockey game; which had been horrified. Especially when he realized HD still met friends twice a month at the Iceoplex for a standing pick-up game, involving body slamming and broken sticks.

Vic called near the end and asked if Justin would stop by and even invited them for dinner. Justin explained that they were just finishing dinner. Vic asked if they could come anyway, even before Debbie got home. So it was about a quarter before seven when Brian and he knocked on the Novotny door.

Vic had them drape their coats over the banister and then seated them in the living room and looked grave when he said, “Tell me about this kid.”

“I only met him briefly,” Justin said, which was essentially true. He and Hunter hadn’t been close in the future, past, damn back to that again. Why did Brian never get tripped up by tenses? Justin sighed and said, “The girls found him sleeping on an exhaust vent. He’s thirteen but could pass for ten or eleven. Small, mouthy, all puffed up bravado, scared shitless, angry as hell, understandably. He’s been in and out of school a lot and switched schools, his mom’s his only guardian and she sounds to be motivated by drugs and men and men who can get her drugs. She’s not above trading sex or sex with her son to get what she wants. He’s bitter and hurt and needs some stability, a safe place to land. Look maybe the system would work for him. Maybe they could find him a decent family who loves taking on the arduous tasks like taming a near feral child, but the girls, and you of all people know what they’re like, have adopted this kid like a stray puppy and don’t want to lose him in the system. They’re going to demand visitation, so if you do take him you’re going to get a house full of teenaged girls as well.”

Vic was quiet and thoughtful for a while and then abruptly segued into pushing a slice of cinnamon apple crostata he’d made that day and coffee on them. No long after that Deb came home and found them sitting around the kitchen table, with Justin on his second slice of the flakey tart and Brian looking longing on, as he tried to avoid the carbs and sugar.                


“What’s this all about?” Deb asked, taking the empty seat on Vic’s other side. Vic had said he’d called her and let her know the gist of what Justin was asking that he was looking for them to board a minor but not the full details.

 

“The Alliance has started, if you will, a service project that has brought them into contact with a young person in need of help. Now, as I’m sure you’re aware, when dealing with an endangered minor, getting them out of the dangerous situation has to be the primary concern; however our current system can park them, either back in the dangerous situation or someplace worse. He’s a young man, his name is James Hunter Montgomery – he prefers Hunter – he’s thirteen and he’s been working as a prostitute-“

“Dear God of course he can stay here!” Debbie said, her hand flying to grasp Vic’s.

“Please hear me out before you say anything there’s more here than just compassion. His mother has been functioning as his pimp. Right now, we believe that she’s in no condition to take him back if we get him out, but we need to keep him out of her clutches if she gets clean. As such, we’ve sought legal counsel on Hunter’s behalf. Our lawyer said that if we found a place that could function as a foster home that we could prevent him from getting lost in the system, that’s why I thought of the two of you,” Justin said.

“Of course, we can-” Debbie started.

“Let me finish,” Justin cut her off and said, “Hunter is not Michael; he’s not even Brian. This kid is a little shit, if you think Brian has walls and defenses and is an asshole, you have no idea what this kid is like. He has serious issues and anyone who takes him in and thinks that a little love and a couple slaps on the back of the head will straighten him out is in for a rude awakening.”

“He’s getting a disease screening tomorrow, but will need to keep going through screenings because even if he ends up as presenting as negative; if he doesn’t have HIV it’ll be a fucking miracle. He’s thirteen and although I was aware of my sexuality at that age along with my gender preference he was taking it up the ass long before he had any opinion on the matter, other than he didn’t want to do it. Sex to him is a commodity to be traded and I don’t think he’s ever been in a place where he’s had the luxury to determine what he would want if it was his choice. He’s going to be a nightmare. Not only will he need massive amounts of therapy but whoever deals with him will probably need to attend at least some sessions just to prevent further damaging him,” Justin paused and rubbed his eyes, god he hadn’t thought this through, sure he had fond memories of this place but was Debbie really up to this?

He continued in a ragged voice, “Given that his mother is the one who used him, regardless of if she was the one having sex with him or not; he is going to have more issues with women and power dynamics than Norman Bates.”

Justin sighed, “I didn’t just pick you because you have a spare room and need money-”

“Wait a minute I don’t-” Debbie started.

Justin plowed on, “I think he needs a strong male role model and Vic, with you living with HIV and still having a life and still making a difference in the community, you’ll give him hope if he is diagnosed as positive. Also, and Debbie I’m not slamming single mothers, but I firmly believe at this point given what’s happened its critical to his self-esteem to see men as functioning adults and not just johns. His mother has essentially been telling him all his life that men are only good for the money they can pay you. He needs to learn to value himself as a man, regardless of if he’s straight or gay.”

“Sunshine,” Brian said. Finally serving himself a piece of the crostata as if it were in lieu of a shot of Beam, “do not go into sales, that’s the worst pitch I’ve ever heard. You didn’t even point out the positive aspects of having a moody adolescent stomping around the house and going through your groceries like a plague of locust.”

“We’re taking him,” Debbie said, “Right, Vic?”

Vic didn’t say anything and Justin finished his coffee and said, “Listen, I’m glad you’re so willing but I insist that you both talk this over, it’s going to be a lot of work and it is risky for both of you. I’m meeting with a child welfare lawyer tomorrow, I want to make sure if we set you up as a private fosterage, you’re not vulnerable and that any liability is managed.”

“Where is he now?” She asked, “He’s not on the streets is he?”

Justin said, “He’s safe. Not at home and not on the streets; for now he’s safe.”

“You should bring him here” she started.

“Deb. First and foremost, I have to do what’s right for this kid. And opening you up to liability and having him yanked out of here because I haven’t gone through the proper channels is not what’s best for him. And, you need to talk over what this would mean to both of you because getting him in here and then having him run or having him yanked out against his will, will cause even more damage in the long run.” Justin stood and put his dishes in the sink before reseating himself, “Both of you could get attached to him and then he could be pulled into the system, you have to be prepared for all that.”

Justin said, directly to Debbie, “I get that you tend to react with your heart but he needs you to think this through because once he is in here things are going to move pretty fast. We want to have him take placement tests; get him back in school; he may need tutored to keep up with his class. He currently says he wants to press criminal charges, that will mean meetings with social workers, cops, court appointed advocates, the lawyer I’m retaining for him, he’ll have more disease screenings and he may have damage that needs to be repaired-”

“I’ll check with our insurance provider see what can be set up, we may need to list Deb or Vic as an employee,” Brian said.

Justin added, “He’ll need a therapist, then there’s the fact that he used to work this neighborhood. If he’s friends with any other working boys he may continue hanging out with them, he could run into johns – and seriously anybody looking at this kid and thinking sex needs to be fucking castrated he looks about ten years old.”

Debbie started to speak and then shut her mouth, possibly because Justin’s glare successfully communicated that her opinion on his age was not welcome.

“We’ll talk it over,” Vic said.

Justin stood and shook his hand and said, “even if you do decide it’ll be at least Wednesday or Thursday until we could move him in. I’m meeting the lawyer and we’ll have him screened but we won’t know medically what he needs for a week or so. I appreciate both of you even considering this. I’ll have the lawyer look into what the normal stipend is and have it adjusted to cover Hunter’s special needs, if you need numbers to see how this would impact your budget I can get them too you sometime tomorrow afternoo-”

“We don’t need to be paid,” Debbie said, “Jesus Christ you think I’d leave a kid-”

“Hunter needs you to be paid,” Justin cut right back in, “there is a fine line between rescuing someone and kidnapping someone. When he goes to court we need records showing this is a paid fosterage that people are being paid to care for him – it can’t look like he’s couch surfing at a friend’s. To show it has stability, that he can build a future here, we need this set up just like people who work for the state, but if we can keep it all funded privately we can keep him from being sucked into the system.”

If Deb didn’t get it Vic seemed to and they said their goodnights and headed home instead of out to Woody’s. They changed and Justin sat on Brian’s feet as he did sit-ups in penance for the crostata. “Maybe we can hire Vic as our private pastry chef?” Justin teased, only to have Brian glare at him and snake out a hand, lightning-quick and slap the back of his head when he next pulled up from the floor.

After Brian finished the set of fifty and Justin handed him a bottle of water while he caught his breath. Brian said, “TKVC is going to need tax right offs, this will be the first year any of the businesses we’ve bought into will be paying us back. I was going to funnel some into the PAC but we can start our own charitable endowment, I’ll call the guy who set up the PAC and see if he or someone he knows can establish a nonprofit for at risk children. Most start small, Hunter can be the first recipient of the… well you’re the one good at naming things. What’ll we call it?”

“Let me get back to you on that,” Justin said pushing Brian back from his seated position and straddling his now extended legs.

Brian said, “I do love how a good legal battle makes you horny.”

“I’m seventeen; everything makes me horny,” Justin said.

 

 


	47. Faithful handyman.

 

Emmett liked having a boyfriend. Maybe they were diving in a bit too fast; not the sex; he certainly had no doubts about sex or sex with Huxley. But they’d been together almost every waking hour he wasn’t at work, except for when he’d met with the boys at the gym to dish. Even if HD would wear what Torso carried they didn’t carry anything in his size, so he’d only stopped by to pick him up after work and to bring lunch once. It was nice having someone pull up when he got off work, drive him to dinner or to visit Godiva. And he’d had relationships, not hookups; well there’d been sex but the kind where you feel you’ve met a soulmate only to have it crash in hours or days from reasons stemming from physical incompatibility to finding out the cad already had someone else.

HD was different and if Emmett were honest with himself - and he usually tried to be, cause honey there was no advantage in lying especially to yourself – he worried that he was taking advantage of HD’s gentle accommodating nature. Until he realized that Huxley Davis could be just as unyielding as a river, under the placid flowing water. That man did not do what he didn’t want to; so if he spent the morning packing half disintegrating cardboard boxes into big plastic storage containers, and said it was a pleasure to do so, he meant it.

Yes, the hockey game had been an eye opening experience. Emmett had never had much interest in sports and if he was going to pick one he’d chose swimming or gymnastics, really you couldn’t see anything in those hockey costumes. At least their team had won, really Pittsburghers, even those who claimed they weren’t into sports all just loved a winning team; in some ways it was very like Mississippi. They had won by one point and he’d thought the crowd was going to shake the Arena to the ground. It wasn’t a crowd he was comfortable with either, it had reminded him too much of high school in a football town with loud aggressive men all pumped on victory waiving colors and hollering insults at the fans from the other team. Emmett had nearly jumped out of his skin when HD had grabbed his hand as the crowd tried to separate them as they walked out after the game. It had garnered a quite few looks but most were immediate hidden when they realized both of them were over six feet and HD at least looked to want to demonstrate the fine art of caber tossing using a human substitute.

He had to give Huxley credit though; he knew how to treat a girl. He opened doors, picked up checks even watched his language, hell if he hadn’t had carnal designs on her son even Emmett’s mama would have liked him. He did know how to make a man feel desired. They’d planned to go to Babylon the night after the game, but when Emmett emerged in a pair of leather pants and a see-through black dress shirt fastened by only one button, plans changed. HD had picked him up, slung him over his shoulder and taken him right back into the bedroom; with no complaints at all from the lucky guy being pealed out of his trousers. They had made another attempt to hit the club about an hour or so later, but Michael had come in and needed to vent about how David – and apparently something was up since their time away – had asked him to move in when he thought that they were breaking up.

By halfway through Michael’s detailed recount of his meeting David’s friends and how they made him feel unsophisticated and undereducated HD had actually looked like he’d prefer to be at Babylon - dancing. Emmett did appreciate the dear refraining from pointing out that Michael was unsophisticated and undereducated; Brian certainly wouldn’t have. But HD sometimes looked at Michael like he wanted to ask why he didn’t change his life if he was so unhappy with it. Of course HD wouldn’t, Emmett liked his quiet manners. Unless someone was rude to HD, or worse Emmett, he was quiet and polite to just about everyone. Of course HD’s glares had a power of their own and his at-rest face, when he wasn’t actively smiling, looked like he was puzzling out how to dismember someone, but underneath he was just a big ol’ pussycat.

In the week since they’d met they’d been to Babylon twice, the Pens game, spent a couples visits with Godiva and one night they’d met HD’s mother for dinner when she’d come into town. Allegedly to do some shopping but Emmett got the impression she wanted to meet whomever her son was keeping company with. Maureen Davis was a tall woman, he wasn’t sure how tall because he knew drag queens that didn’t were heels that high. With her shoes on she was easily as tall as Brian. Emmett had expected her to look like his mother, small, a little rounder in the middle and slightly out of date or well, motherly. Mrs. Davis probably was somewhere around fifty, her skin looked like it had never seen the sun, her hair while still the same ashy blonde as her son was shot with white, further lightening it. Her eyes were slightly mismatched in shape but were such a vivid green you didn’t notice right away. She looked like the villain on a soap opera, like she lived to trip up ingénues and make long suffering heroines cry; tall, lean and powerful. When Emmett had finally relaxed enough to stop watching every move he made, she’d froze when his flame had blazed a bit bright, and then smiled. And then everything had been fine, that was Huxley’s smile. As long as that was where his smile came from, it didn’t matter that that was where he got his glare as well. Their waiter had found out about the glare from both Huxley and Mrs. Davis when he corrected Emmett for mispronouncing an item on the menu.

She wasn’t Debbie Novotny and would most likely never march in a Pride parade or head up PFLAG, but this a was a woman who would show up with an entrenching tool and a chain saw if her son needed to get rid of a body. Emmett didn’t have a mother around to approve of HD, his own mother would probably pass him in the street without so much as an acknowledgement. Only Aunt Lula kept in touch and her handwriting was getting so spidery in the letters that he knew it wouldn’t be much longer before he had no kin left that would acknowledge him. He just might mention his new beau in his next letter home.

So here he was on his day off and though it had started with a lie in, only to be woke with designer coffee and a chocolate croissant by an eager boyfriend, instead of paying said boyfriend back with pampering he’d put the poor dear to work. Godiva’s old friend who had stored much of his personal belonging when he moved into the hospice was now moving to Florida and could no longer keep them. So today was spent going through a lifetime of handmade gowns, and in some cases handmade shoes, gloves and assorted jewelry, given those objects had been harder to obtain in a man’s size before the internet, especially in Pittsburgh.

“I sewed every stich, every sequin; every bead. If you could see this under the spot light it’s like wearing living flames,” Godiva said.

Emmett held up the heavy dress against his body, it had to weight a good fifty pounds. This wasn’t some skimpy Halloween costume this dress flowed to the floor even from Emmett’s height. He’d always loved this one; had called it Godiva’s ‘Jessica Rabbit’ dress. It wouldn’t work with the wheelchair though. Such a shame, it had a slit that went all the way up to the hip. Boasting enough material that when you wore it and walked it only revealed that tantalizing line of flesh in brief teasing glimpses. Not like the queens today, all flash and flesh this was a real Hollywood starlet dress. Every inch of it was glamorized with a briolette on top of a facetted bicone, a twisted bugle, backed by sequins with a few clear ones intermingled in the red for extra sparkle; it had a heavy satin lining. Godiva was insisting Emmett keep it himself but it was too much, the amount it would sell for would be staggering. It was haute couture in the truest spirit, a Godiva original.

“That’s a fine piece of work,” HD said, hands in the back pocket of his jeans, “what color is it?”

Emmett saw Godiva’s look of confusion and he guessed he hadn’t mentioned Huxley’s little problem. He said, “Its red, honey. The brightest red you ever saw looks just like Jessica Rabbit.”

Emmett liked that despite HD’s skills not being inclined to glamour he could still show appreciation for the kind of hard work that went into crafting this sort of creation. HD left them to go unload the last of the large thirty gallon plastic storage containers from his truck. When Emmett had fretted over not having room at the apartment to put all Godiva’s belongings now that they could no longer be housed at where they had been, HD had suggested going through them and sorting them for long term or short term storage. That way Emmett could keep anything Godiva was likely to want handy at his place, and the long term items could be stored out in Suttersville.

HD had left Wade and two other men out at the site he was renoing and instead of spending Emmett’s day off doing something fun was dancing attendance on two queens gossiping and squealing over dresses. Emmett knew this wasn’t the way to keep a man’s attention, but the idea of Godiva getting rid of dresses that had hundreds of hours of work in them was too permanent - it made it too real.

They planned to go through the old dresses and refresh one for the upcoming benefit. They just had to find something that would work with the wheelchair.

+

Godiva watched the new boy watch Emmett. Godiva had known the first time he’d clapped eyes on Em he was something special. A heart big enough to still love a family that had done nothing but torment him for being as God made him, a spirit strong enough to meet the world head on, head high unbowed by the ridiculous expectations of the damn fools who thought they could remake reality just by refusing to see what was in front of them, Emmett remained a light in an increasing dark world. Godiva firmly believed Emmett Honeycutt had been a gift from a kind and loving God who had known how precarious faith could be and just how shaken Godiva’s had been when that faithful diagnosis had been made. Being given the death sentence that a positive diagnosis had been in 1993, or at least seemed to be, Godiva had been close to not only losing faith but spiraling into a self-destructive depression which would have ended it all much sooner, when Emmett had been all but thrown into his path.

Wide-eyed and fresh from some inbred Mississippi mudhole, Emmett Honeycutt had stumbled onto Liberty Avenue with all the grace of a newborn calf. It had been no hardship to take the fresh faced kid under his wing, warn off the chicken hawks and wolves, that this country boy was under Godiva’s bitchy protection. At twenty Em had had his height, but been skinny and not only still trying to find out how to manage all his knees and elbows; but fighting the instinctive flinch that happened when he realized he was being too-too much. Godiva often wondered just how Emmett’s family had gone about reigning in Em vivacious personality, because the furtive looks and hunching of his shoulders when Emmett realized his hands were moving or arms spreading too boldly had spoken of more than harassment from his peers at school, that spoke of that large loving family he so missed not being so loving.

It hadn’t take Emmett long to blossom, he’d filled out and made friends and dove into life with all the resilience and optimism of the very young. But Emmett had shown wisdom beyond his years and a steadfast loyalty that more than repaid any help Godiva had given the Young Turk in showing him the ropes when he’d stepped off the Greyhound into the night life of Pittsburgh. The optimism remained undaunted and even now that Godiva was confined to a wheelchair and living at Liberty House, Emmett treated it as just one more set back and not a sign that the death sentence give all those years ago was likely to be shortly executed.

And so, Godiva watched Mr. Huxley Davis and liked what he saw. This wasn’t some fly-by-night club boy romancing Godiva’s fledgling with promises of airy castles in the sky. Granted, he looked as likely to offer a punch as a handshake but he was more than a handsome face or a sexy body. He listened when Emmett talked, showed respect and Godiva hadn’t missed the way HD had of offering up concrete ideas to solidify Em’s sometime scattered plans. This was not the first time Emmett has brought his young man by for a visit. HD had a habit of wandering off while they gossiped, had fixed a problem with the hot water heater once and the plumbing in the half bath off the kitchen another time. He seemed on good terms with most of the staff and Em said HD was far more comfortable here than at a dance club.

But HD had wandered back and taken a seat, in the corner by the door. He’d brought the last of the plastic crates they’d loaded the boxes into, Godiva regretted not being able to offer to pay for the crates they’d purchased for storage, but Em as always waved it a way as no bother. Emmet had come by to help get an outfit together for the benefit on the twentieth. Babylon was hosting a competition to benefit Liberty House, not just drag but a talent completion. Godiva was to be one of the celebrities on the panel of judges. Film students from CMU were planning to film it, not just for their grades but hoped to sell it to MTV or Showtime as a reality TV event. Emmett had been more than willing to help with wigs and with putting together a memorable look but Godiva wanted him to enter. Not only was the prize of five thousand dollars, but it had been too long since Godiva had seen Emmett onstage. Confined to the chair Woody’s was off limits for Em’s occasional forays into karaoke and most of the hacks entering this contest would be lip-syncing instead of showcasing any true talent.

“I like your voice,” HD offered, not looking up from patiently untangling a pile of belts and decorative chains.

Emmett paused as if he’d been unaware the quiet man had been paying any attention to their conversation. Blushing he asked, “When have you heard me sing?”

“You sing all the time when you’re happy,” HD said, looking up and offering EM a smile before adding, “of course you’re normally trying to take it an octave higher than you should, but that’s what you get for tying to sound like a black woman.”

Emmett laughed and blushed a bit, and said, “Well that’s just how Patti LaBelle sounds.”

“So switch to Peggy Lee, she’s more in your vocal range,” HD said, “you sound good with a bit more bottom in your register. You should do it, when’s the next time you two will in front of the same audience. I still hit open mics with Marc when he’s in town.”

Yes, Godiva thought, this boy can stay. And if the Good Lord didn’t see fit to let him share another Christmas with the closest thing he’d had to a son, then at least his boy wasn’t going to be alone in his grief.

Emmett seemed to be caving and after they’d spent another hour sorting to find an outfit for Godiva, Em consented to try on the long red gown. Emmett wanted to look into getting a red wig to keep to the ‘Jessica Rabbit’ theme, but Godiva had a lovely blonde ‘Veronica Lake’ that would look better, if they could find it.

Finally after much giggling Emmett tried the dress on, it would need taken in at the waist but the length was good and his new beau said, “Well you certainly have the stems for it, Mr. Honeycutt, but how’s your pipes?”

In response Emmett began snapping his fingers in a sultry jazz beat and sang in his natural baritone. “Sun lights up the day time Moon lights up the night I light up when you call my name And you know I'm gonna treat you right You give me fever when you kiss me Fever when you hold me tight”

“Now that’s more like it,” HD said, as he stood and clapped, “Play to your strengths.”

“Which are?” Emmett teased.

“Great legs, broad shoulders, a strong back, you’re a good kisser too, but I’d prefer you not demonstrate that to the judges,” HD said, “and your smile. I really like your smile.”

Godiva watched Emmett stroll over and placed both hands on HD’s chest; he’d need opera gloves to pull it off, his hands, even with the care he put in with moisturizing and regular manicures they were man hands. Emmett asked, “You wouldn’t be-”

“I wouldn’t be what?” HD asked after the pause produced no more information. Emmett seemed to keep his eyes on his hands and HD’s hands engulfed his.

“I know Babylon, with the noise and the crowds is not your favorite place,” Emmett said, “you wouldn’t be uncomfortable with me on stage, in a dress and make up and a wig – not being down there to”

“To protect my virtue?” HD said with a smile, “Emmett Honeycutt I was living out of a truck playing dives with chicken wire stretched in front of the bandstands when you were still learning to can blackberry jam at your great aunt Lula’s elbow.”

So once Godiva pinned the gown for alterations Emmett slipped it off and the found a gold sheath dress that could be cut down into separates that would make working it in the chair easier. Most of Godiva’s old publicity stills had him in a brunette wig but the gold might look best with blonde.

“You’ll need a name hon, and not Auntie Em,” Godiva said.

+

They bandied ideas and then discussed some of Godiva’s contemporaries, Lypsinka in addition to having truth in advertising in her name had also been born in Hazelhurst. Knowing that someone else had gotten out had been a balm when Godiva had shared that gem right after meeting Emmett. But names like Sister Boom Boom, Vaginal Davis, Mimi Imfurst, and Cookie Buffett had HD asking, “Are they supposed to be jokes?”

“Some of them are,” Emmett said, “Comedy can be one of the talents they showcase. Not a lot do their own singing so bantering with the audience can be a way of establishing their character. You ever seen a drag show?”

“Nope, fixed a tire for a car load on their way to a contest in Philly once,” HD said. “I think Marc still keeps in touch with one of them.”

“I thought he was straight,” Emmett said.

“Marc’s just; special,” HD said. “I don’t think it’s sexual, but he’s gone to a couple his shows, and sometimes they play pickup basketball. But your name; you going to go with a play on words or what?”

“Well,” Emmett drawled, “I could play on my name, or on the Jessica Rabbit connection, ‘Honey Bunny’.”

Godiva snorted and said, “I think you can do better.”

“What about, Sweet Cordelia Brown,” HD said.

“Where did that come from?” Emmett said.

HD smile and said, “An old Jim Croce song, ‘Mississippi Lady’,” and then sang, “she was a; Mississippi lady My lovin' Gulfport gal She taught me how to love And she really loved me well She took me up to heaven Then she brought me down That Mississippi lady Sweet Cordelia Brown.”

“You got a set of pipes too, honey,” Godiva said.

HD shrugged and said, “I mostly stuck to back up, but I do a mean Johnny Cash; course it usually involves alcohol.”

“I’ll take care of altering the gown,” Godiva said, “You need shoes though, maybe a round toe pump with ankle straps. I think I have a pair of red opera gloves; I want you to try on. I know someone who should be able to get you some songs, or rather the music without the words so you can rehearse it and have it ready to be put into the sound system at the venue.”

It took them a while to sort through what was staying, four wigs, both dresses to be altered, a pile of notions and box of beads; what was going to Emmett’s garters, stockings, some hats and jewelry Godiva wanted him to have; and what was being put in long term, almost everything else. Two of the crates for long term were all the fancy dresses, giving Emmett pause because, yeah it was nearly five months from now, but surely Godiva wanted something special for Pride.

Emmett couldn’t bear the thought that Godiva was giving up, maybe he just planned to put together a whole new ensemble there had to be a reason for keeping the box of beads and sequins. Once they got them home and were unloading the truck at Emmett’s HD asked, “You want to head out and store these tonight or, you want dinner and I can do it tomorrow?”

“Best bring it all up, it’s not the best neighborhood, and I don’t want you to make a special trip it’ll be fine here for a while, Michael won’t mind,” Emmett said, sinking onto the coach “I’m not really hungry.”

“Em,” HD started; then he stopped and went to get another crate. Emmett knew he should help but it all seemed so final, they were one step closer from packing up all Godiva’s things. After HD made a few more trips he came over and sat down, sideways facing Emmett. Without a word he turned Emmett to face way from him and started to knead the tension out of his shoulders, working his neck with strong sure thumbs. Emmett could hear the pops and cracks of the muscles releasing their knots. HD spoke again, “don’t be in such a rush to grieve that you don’t enjoy the time you have left. You’ve given him something to look forward to; something to plan for and you’ll make a good memory. You should get Justin to do some publicity stills, maybe some shots of both you together. You can send a copy to your aunt.”

Emmett chuckled, if not at the thought of Aunt Lula seeing it at the idea of his brothers and sisters coming across it. Still as morbid as it was it would be nice to have some photos of him and Godiva in drag, to remember him by.

“So, why don’t you slip into something shiny, and we’ll go to that diner you like with the rude waitress and head out dancing,” HD said.

“Haven’t you done enough boyfriend penance today? You hate the diner, Babylon gives you a headache and strange horny men grabbing you makes you want to hit people,” Emmett said.

HD pulled him back against him and kissed him, slow and long before saying, “when you’re happy, you’re incandescent, luminous. And when you’re dancing in that crowd, you light up the room. Seeing that, is worth putting up with loud electropop that’s produced using computers by tasteless eurotrash.”

Emmett laughed, spoken like a musician. And they would, go get something to eat and head out to the club, maybe run into Teddy or Brian since Michael seemed to be back with David. But for now they had the apartment to themselves and he had a man kissing him on his couch and well, there was no need to let that go to waste.

 


	48. He's just a little brought down

Tuesday afternoon, the girls were for some reason gleefully excited about being tested for sexually transmitted diseases. The staff at the clinic weren’t quite sure what to do with what seemed to be the movie ‘Clueless’ being shot on their premises. Niles had come, Paul had come, and of the two of them Paul looked more freaked out. Niles was quietly reading a copy of ‘U.S News and World Report’ that he’d brought with him. Wise, given the waiting area of the clinic offered ‘Cosmo’ and ‘The Advocate’. Paul chose to sit quietly and hold Tracy’s hand. Tracy seemed to be under the impression Paul was afraid of needles, as opposed to being afraid people would assumed he was gay and was softly telling him is was okay if he needed to barf. September, after sitting still all day at school, was prowling around annoying the staff with questions, asking about volunteer work while surreptitiously dumping condoms into her enormous purse.

Monica and Brittney were bracketing Hunter like he was a flight risk. Daphne and Justin had been texting ideas for a name for a nonprofit outreach philanthropy all day and the names had been getting progressively weirder, however now they were quietly talking as he told her about the meeting with the lawyer and the information they had both been gathering all day. As Daphne and he were going over the numbers they had been trying to put together on what would be involved with raising a teen; Justin realized what vastly different expectations they each had.

Daphne had crunched numbers to basically replicate their own life styles. She had included four years tuition at St. James, uniform and other expenses, an allowance and grooming and fashion expense. Justin had assumed the kid would go to public school, but intended to get details and make sure Brian’s old coach wasn’t still working at the district the Novotny residence was in. He’d built in the stipend for room and board cost and an allotment to his caregivers, clothing expenses, school supplies and a reasonable amount for tutors or after school programs. It looked like neither of them was ready to raise a child – or a teenager; sadder in Justin’s case since he was approaching his mid-thirties. Ironically their monthly calculations were within a few hundred dollars of each other having both left out critical things the other had remembered.

At his meeting with Mason earlier that day he’d picked up information on the amounts state foster care received in Pennsylvania and it didn’t seem enough to care for a dog. Under normal circumstances Justin would never have looked at Mason twice. He was obviously straight, not overweight but hardly fit, wore a brown suit, had his hair in a 70s dry look and his tie was too wide. He was actually kind of a brown man, except for the pasty winter skin, he had brown hair and brown eyes and with the brown suit and brown tie and brown shoes he would have blended into the wallpaper if not for his voice. No wondered he’d become a lawyer Justin would have wanted to find a profession to showcase it if he’d been born with such an instrument. Mason’s voice wasn’t deep like HD’s or accented like Emmett’s, in fact it seemed as if he’d stripped away all tell-tale signs of where he was from and you only focused on the rich rolling tone, like a Shakespearean actor.

Mason confirmed a lot of what Margret had said. When Justin mentioned the possibly of funding Hunter’s upkeep privately through a private trust Mason was amused that it was in the process of being formed but said most charities started with an idea to help one person and expanded from there. He also shared the names and contact information with some groups that specialized in helping minors in and outside the system, going so far as to recommend the names of some long time volunteers who might be suitable to be tapped to sit on a board or screen candidates.

Justin gave Mason as much information as he could, including the name and address of Rita Montgomery’s current and former boyfriends in case Hunter’s mother wasn’t where Hunter had left her. Only the most recent boyfriend had traded services for goods, using Hunter, and not Rita, Justin was sickened by the thought but asked Mason if Hunter had any diseases and they were shared by this man if it could be used as proof; or at least to add veracity when the defense attorney tried to deny Hunter’s accusations. Mason thought that that was a long shot

Since today it was only a blood test and they’d sufficiently alienated the staff at the clinic to the point they wanted them all gone now, the boys went in one room and the girls in the other for the blood draws. Justin figured after they ruled out the basic, Hunter could endure a physical exam and have his stool checked for parasites but today it was all a fast draw, cash payments and Justin providing his mail drop box number for anyone who didn’t want their results sent home.

Niles bowed out, obvious at least to Justin that he had plans with Lena, but apparently Paul was coming back to Tracy’s with them to start selling Mr. Payne on the idea that another young man was to be included in their group. Justin wondered just how close an eye Mr. Payne was keeping on Tracy when he had a young male prostitute living in his pool house and hadn’t caught on yet. But the rest of them figured they owed Paul for being the eighth name to officially sanction the club. Whether that meant Paul would have pink toe nails tomorrow he didn’t know but Sep was planning a membership drive, hence the condoms; and Daphne wanted to start a fundraiser for the yet unnamed nonprofit. The Gay Straight Alliance of St. James Academy only had tentative approval, as they had jumped all the hoops, met all the requirements but it was still pending approval from the board, and Mr. Hunt. As Justin remembered it from the previous time they tried to establish an alliance Mr. Hunt had no intention of approving it, Justin vaguely remembered he’d compared it to a white supremacist group. Justin had no intention of dashing the girls’ hopes, but once Hunt fueled their ire, he had the names and contact information for every member of the board, ready to hand over.

+

Justin called to let Brian know he was at the testing center and afterwards would be going to Tracy’s with his girl gaggle. He said Daph or Sep would drive him home and told Brian to go have fun, that the less he was involved with this whole Hunter scheme the better. Brian gave him an update on forming the nonprofit and told him to show up with a name and to sign paperwork at their tax attorney’s office tomorrow at four.

After napping and changing, Brian headed out to Woody’s and found Ted and Michael competing in some form of depressive moping contest. Brian scanned the crowd but there was no Emmett and, really, this was out of his skill set, he should just get laid. Instead he dropped heavily into the open chair at their table, heaved a dramatic sigh and said, “Okay girls, why are we crying in our beer?”

“I broke up with David,” Michael said.

Ted sighed and added, “I got fired.

Brian flagged a waiter, ordered a round of Beam for the table and a beer and said, “If you broke up with him shouldn’t you be happier? It was your idea. You did it for a reason. Should you not be scouting for rebound guy? And you Theodore, what did you do?”

“Surfing porn at work,” Ted answered first, mainly because Michael was making an exasperated, indignant face that indicated Brian had no soul and could not possibly understand.

“That’ll do it,” Brian said, as the waiter brought their shots. Brian lifted one and clicked it with theirs before they downed them.

Brian really didn’t have the patience for morose mopping with this twosome. He wondered if Mikey had caught David in his extracurricular activities. Not that he really listened when Michael yammered on about Doctor Viagra’s skill in the sack but he hadn’t heard that they’d sat down and negotiated monogamy, as he remembered from the first time Michael had been turning down tricks when he socialized with his friends, but did the Doc know that, and did he ask for it, or was Mikey just assuming that because in his Stepford fag brain that was what being a couple meant and that Dave was in agreement?

He really didn’t want to risk losing Theodore to the spiral of his masturbatory depression or his successful but damaging foray into porn. Although hadn’t Emmett been instrumental in the successful launching of his site? And would very tall guy look kindly on dear Theodore pimping his honey around the net? It would also be helpful if Ted could avoid the drugs because Brian was going to need him sooner, even if he didn’t launch Kinnetik ahead of schedule. TKVC was getting too big for him to do the books in his spare time, he didn’t want to go with Ted’s old firm since they dropped the ball on the money transfer – albeit fifteen years ago in a future that hadn’t happened yet but why give them a second chance to screw up again for the first time.

“So what’s up with the Doc, his heart can’t take all the Viagra anymore?” Brian asked.

Michael glared and said nothing. Fine, he was only pretending to care, after all it was Mikey’s choice if Dave wasn’t the one; maybe Ben would come along. But Michael had to actually have a relationship on his own it wasn’t like Brian could fuck the guy for Michael.

“Fine, Mikey’s pathetic love life is off the table,” Brian said. “What are your plans Theodore?”

“Well, Michael was saying its discrimination, that I should go demand my job back,” Ted said.

Brian took a pull on the long neck and scoped the room for any talent, sadly it was Pittsburgh on a Tuesday night and the prospects were not hot. He said, “How the hell is it discrimination?”

“They fired him because he’s gay,” Michael said.

Brian drawled, “Well, that’s legal. Pennsylvania does not list sexuality as a protected status, gender yes, who you want to stick what into, no. But discrimination implies they wouldn’t have fired a straight guy for pulling his pud when he should have been working. I can’t think of any career outside of the porn industry or the sex trade that pays you to get off. So, no, you don’t have a leg to stand one.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, Brian,” Ted said

Speaking of a ray of sunshine, Brian watched Emmett enter, followed by his man mountain. Emmett was wearing a man’s dress shirt that seemed to be made of copper colored mylar open, over a wide mesh tank that showcased more than covered anything. He was poured into a pair of snakeskin patterned hip huggers and breezing into the room as if he’d just gotten laid. And judging by the lazy rolling walk with which HD followed behind, he had.

“Hello fellas, what are we celebrating,” Emmett greeted with a big smile, before dropping into a vacant chair and then looked at their faces and said, “What the hell?”

“Mikey dumped his sugar daddy for reasons yet unstated and Theodore got fired for surfing porn and jerking off when he should have been working,” Brian said. HD, who’d detoured to the bar, joined them with something suitably girly for Emmett and a draft of some dark porter.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that,” Em said, taking his drink and fluttering his thanks as HD snagged a chair from a nearby table and pulled it over close to him.

Brian rolled his eyes and instead of ignoring Ted like he would have done last time, and it was selfish but he’d come to rely on Theodore’s dry wit and calm competence and really could use help with the way business was going. “You know Theodore,” he started and saw Ted steeling himself, “the fact you spent so much time bored out of your mind that you had to develop a porn habit and jerk off to keep from killing yourself probably means that’s not the job for you.”

“We can’t all find jobs that involve seducing clients and being paid to have four hour lunches,” Ted said. “I’m an accountant, it’s safe, it’s reliable but it’s not exciting.”

“Well maybe it should be, put on a suit and meet me for lunch at the ‘Capital Grill’, tomorrow; one o’clock,” Brian said, “We’ll talk business.”

Ted looked stunned but before he could put his foot in it or start pressing for details Brian turned his attention to Michael and said, “So what’s the plan? You wanna get laid? We can hit Babylon and find you a stud. You want sympathy, we’ll I’d say go talk to Debbie but she really was into the whole ‘my son’s dating a doctor’ thing. If you want to mope and consume empty calories I think that’s what fag hags are for, shall we give Tracey a call?”

“Brian!” Emmett said, “You’re not helping.”

“That’s sad,” Brian said, “Because this is actually me trying to help.”

HD tilted his glass in acknowledgement but kept his mouth shut, and Em cooed over Mikey’s sad and pathetic love life. They finished there drinks and headed over to Babylon.

+

“What about… ‘off the streets, on with life’,” Daphne said.

Sep typed quickly and said, “That’s the Jericho Project.”

“See the Light?” Daphne said.

While Sep typed, Justin said, “Creepy religious support group that defags and dedykes people.”

“Also,” Sep said, “a Jeff Healy song. What? He’s hot; maybe we could get him to do a benefit. But yeah, there’s also ‘Light of Life’ women’s shelter and all the good names are taken or mean something gross.”

“It needs to be short easy to remember, easy to write on a check, not used already to sell products and it should somehow tell what our goals are, and who were helping,” Justin said.

“Cockblock?” Hunter said.

Justin rolled his eyes and thought it was actually pretty good but Daph said, “Not the message we’re sending. This isn’t supposed to be antigay or even antisex it’s to point out that these kids; that you are everybody’s child and we all have to take responsibility.”

Justin watched Daph and her beautiful righteous fury. He’d seen her half asleep still cramming for an anatomy final, he’d seen her covered in sweat and other bodily fluids after sixteen hours of labor and he’d seen her coiffed and made up for her wedding day. He’d have never survived the first time without her and he’d been so afraid that their age difference now would ruin what they had, but deep down she was quintessentially Daphne, passionate and true. So he said, “By George, she’s got it.”

“We really are calling it George?” Tracy said. Hunter snickered and poured himself another cola.

Everyone looked at her because when she suggested they call it ‘George’ they had though she was doing the old Bugs Bunny routine. “No,” Justin said in the voice he used to talk the crazy out of her and shouldn’t that now be Paul’s job? “Everybody’s Child.”

Sep frantically typed and cheered when the search engine didn’t show any nonprofits with that name. “Finally,” Sep said, “I need to check my flists.”

Justin suspected September of writing softcore porn for the ‘Highlander’ series. He couldn’t think of any other reason for her to own the whole thing on VHS, and well he’d snooped into her browsing history. So while Sep was checking to see if any of her favorite writers had updated or if she had feedback from her own readers, Justin texted the name to Brian.

They started brainstorming fundraiser ideas, poker tournaments with silent auctions at the club or when the weather broke, golf tournaments. Brittney was asking a lot of questions about the Cancer Society Gala and Monica suggested a raffle. Oddly it was Paul who said, “The first thing you need is a website. One that looks professional and has details on what the charity is, and what it does and even how it will be administered. You’ll want to set up an account for donations, and hook it up to PayPal or something. Then you can establish a mailing list and advertise events and fundraisers. Look into accepting credit cards, have merchandise with the logo – well design a logo and put it on stuff like PBS does for donors.”

“Can you do that, set up a website? Because I can design a logo,” Justin asked.

Paul looked nonplus and said, “I’m a jock, ask Anderson.”

Justin rolled his eyes and said, “It doesn’t have to be a student, or at least a St. James student. If Niles doesn’t know anyone we can check on campus, CMU or Pitt has got to have someone who could put together something professional without charging astronomical prices. “

Brittney started texting Niles to see if he had any software skills or knew anyone who could set up a site.

“I know people,” Sep said, “online people from all over. A lot of them have their own pages or blogs, once we’re up and running I can have them set up links that will let their fans come to our site and donate.”

Daphne asked, “You think people, not in Pittsburgh, would donate?”

“Not hundreds of dollars, but sure, it’s like electronically empting the change in your pocket; a dollar or two with the click of a button, why not?” September said, “I’ve done it, for fires or if I see something on the news, even to support online archiving of reading material. And if lots of people from all over the country or all over the world give a dollar or two we can help a lot of kids.”

“Okay but check with PayPal or MasterCard or Visa whoever is taking in the funds because if it costs us a dollar and a half to make a dollar we’ll not only go out of business but we’ll be in debt. We might have to set a minimum donation amount based on payment type. We’ll probably need a separate mailing address for ‘Everybody’s Child’ as well. You want me to check at the same ‘Mailboxes Ect.’ I use?” Justin said.

“Have you done this before?” Hunter said.

Daphne said, “Set up a charity? No this is a first, but we so rocked the fundraiser for ‘Liberty House’.”

“And then we take over the world,” Tracy said.

+

Brian had left Michael in the tender care of Ted and the boys while he hit the backroom. Relaxed and feeling more charitable he bought Mikey another drink and switched to water himself on the off chance he would be the one pouring Michael into his bed tonight.

“Seriously Mikey,” Brian said handing Michael a kamikaze, “if you dumped him, why are you so morose?”

“Because I really liked him,” Michael said.

Brian took a long swig, empting his water bottle and tossed it into the open trash can behind the bar, nodding to the bartender for another. He spoke slowly in consideration of Michael’s slightly inebriated state and asked, “Then why did you dump him?”

Michael said, “What do you care, I thought you couldn't stand him.”

“When did I ever say that?” Brian said, with a feeling of déjà vu, the conversation was similar but he had been way nicer to Dave this time around, or at least Justin had been. Okay he’d pretty much ignored him but why waste time when he might only be a passing fancy on Mikey’s behalf.

Michael said, “Every chance you got? You were always calling him Dr. Viagra and poking fun at his age.”

“I poke fun at your age too. Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy. I though, you know if he makes you happy I haven’t got a problem with him,” Brian said.

Michael threw up his hands, nearly clocking a tall tasty Black man, who was waiting for his drink to be served as Michael said, “Well, now's a hell of a time to tell me!”

“Why does my opinion matter? It’s not like you’ve been anything but hateful to Justin, and you don’t see me dumping him?” Brian said.

Michael said, “It’s not like you’re really with Justin. God! Brian stop checking this guy out,” Michael gestured broadly at the man he’d nearly hit.

“Well,” Brian said, making eye contact with the man, “you know how I do appreciate a work of art.” The guy returned Brian’s perusal and tipped his drink at him. The bartender handed Brian another bottle of water and he opened it and took a long drink while not breaking eye contact.

“What about Justin?” Michael asked.

Brian leaned back to where Ted was guarding the bar and said, “You can get Michael home right?” Brian didn’t wait for a response before he asked the guy, “How do you feel about bitchy blond twinks?”

Michael squawked and the guy said, “Variety is the spice of life.”

“Ain’t it just,” Brian said, “Night, Mikey.”

Brian herded his conquest toward the exit, nodding to Ted as he passed. As they left the noise of the club and headed to Brian’s jeep Brian hit number one on his speed dial and Justin answered with all his prim WASP manners.

“Hope you’re on your way home,” Brian said.

Justin hesitated only a breath before asking, “Take out?”

“Though you might want to get your hands on a real work of art,” Brian said unlocking the doors.

Justin said, “On my way.”

+

“Okay I have to see a lawyer at four tomorrow but I can stop the day after and get an extra mailing address,” Justin said.

Daphne said, “I’ll drive you, if you don’t have to wait on the bus we can stop and put both our names on the box and you’ll still make the lawyer in time.”

“And tomorrow is girls night at Sep’s,” Tracy said, “And the boys are going to the movies to see the new Nicholson.”

“What? No,” Justin said.

Paul said, “Yeah, no.”

Tracy said, while pinching Paul’s arm, “It’ll be okay now, Justin. No toenail painting, now you have guy friends.”

“I have guy friends,” Justin said. “I sleep with one of them every night.”

“Brian doesn’t count,” September said. “And those guys, even Emmett who I love, are too old to be your friends; they’re Brian’s friends.”

“Paul I don’t want to speak for you, and it this is nothing against you; but ladies, we don’t need a play date,” Justin said. “I love you all, but I want to spend some time with my man. I want to get laid.”

“You get laid every night,” Daphne said.

Paul asked, “seriously dude?”

“Couple of times,” Justin said, and apparently that was how to impress a straight guy.

Justin’s phone rang and he couldn’t suppress a smile when he saw it was Brian and the girls all giggled at it when he said, “Hello.”

“Hope you’re on your way home,” Brian said.

Justin grinned and asked, “Take out?”

“Though you might want to get your hands on a work of art,” Brian said.

Justin said, “On my way.” He disconnected and said, “Who’s taking me home?”

“Why didn’t you tell him you already ate?” Tracy asked.

Justin said, “I can always eat.”

+

The next day, Daphne and Justin opened the mailbox, actually two getting one for the PAC as well, and Justin met with Brian’s lawyer, signed the forms and their nonprofit officially existed. Daphne was going to call CMU and Pitt and advertise for a web designer in their school newspapers. Since Niles had no ideas regarding a competent web designer. Justin told her to get prices for the nonprofit and for a PAC.

“We’re forming a PAC?” Daphne asked as they took their orders to the table at ‘Cold Stone Creamery’

Justin said, “No, it’s already formed its named ‘Concerned Citizens for the Truth’.

“What’s it support?” Daphne asked.

Justin said, “Truth? It’s designed to publicize what political candidates try to hide. Not just homophobia; anything that’s been covered up or glossed over. No one spots bullshit like Brian.”

“He doesn’t strike me as politically active, granted I only know what you share. I haven’t spent much time with him,” she said.

Justin said, “He wants to keep it that way, his political activity not spending time with you. Brian cares about lots of people and things but he prefers to keep it, hidden. He’s carefully cultivated an image of an unfeeling bastard and it would disappoint his fans if he acted out of character.”

They covered a lot of topics, including that Justin would be out of town for the weekend. Daphne was the president of the SGA at St James so would keep an eye on the Hunter situation. Under normal circumstances Daphne being president would have made Justin happy as he really didn’t want to get into it, any more than he was, with the administration. Unfortunately she was the one person, besides Brian, who he really had trouble saying no to, thus she was dumping him at Waterworks to meet up with the guys. Niles walked in to the ice cream shop and headed over to them before saying, “Reporting as ordered, although I really thought this would be a club that just met once a week to talk about social issues.”

“Want to be vice-president in charge of media relations? I’ll look good on your college aps,” Daphne said.

Niles made a face and said, “I have early acceptance to Georgetown.”

“D.C. has some kick ass clubs,” Justin offered.

Niles sighed and said, “If I was gay, that would be good and desired news; as such, not so much.” Sometime Justin wondered if Niles was a straight high school version of Ted.

“Okay, you boys have fun,” Daphne said, “you’ll take him home right?”

While Niles nodded, Justin said, “Daphne, I don’t need a babysitter.”

After she kissed him and scampered off, Justin looked at Niles and said, “Last chance to run for it.”

“Too late, Niles said, nodding toward the door. Paul entered with another random jock.

Justin muttered to Niles, “Aw he brought a chaperone to protect his virtue, how sweet.”

Mike, Paul’s wingman for the night, was introduced around and they all walked down to the cinema. “How did you two let this happen again,” Niles asked.

“Hey, I firmly stated no play dates, but Paul’s trying to get laid and his brain leaked out his ears,” Justin said.

Niles looked at Paul and said, “not that I don’t support you getting laid, but how is my sitting through a movie I have no interest in seeing going to help you out.”

“It’ll make Tracy happy,” Paul said.

After paying for his ticket, Justin sighed and said, “Not that I know anything about getting girls into bed but have you tried just saying ‘let’s have sex’, call me crazy but you’ve had a disease screening, you’re reasonably attractive for a straight guy, and she actually likes you. I’m just putting it out there.”

“She does?” Paul said.

Now Justin really felt old. He said, “You have put up with the no-dating restriction all year, you joined this stupid - I’m sorry - ‘socially cognizant’ club and for all intents and purposes you are her boyfriend. Ask her. If she says no, you’ve lost nothing, you can always ask again. But if she says no clarify, does she just mean nothing penetrate or is oral okay, or-”

“Jesus,” Mike said. “Is this what you guys talk about?”

“I’m trying to be supportive of the straight culture, the alliance was formed to promote understanding and to educate,” Justin said. “Lord knows the girls always want blow job tips, they might as well get some use out of them.”

“That must really be helpful on your college applications,” Niles said dryly.

Justin shrugged, “early admission, CMU. But Daphne is still waffling between her top two and thought the leadership role would look good.”

+

Brian had Ted over to the loft, and other than having his taxes dropped off during an orgy he couldn’t recall that actually ever happening before. They both had bottles of beer but were engrossed in paperwork, having pulled one of the dining room chairs to the other side of Brian’s desk.

At lunch, Brian had offered Ted a job as a financial oversight officer for TKVC, and contracted him privately as a financial advisor for both the PAC ‘Concerned Citizens for Truth’ and the nonprofit ‘Everybody’s Child’. It wasn’t much of a raise moneywise from Ted’s old job, not nearly as much as he’d made at Kinnetik, but it had great health care thanks to the expected cancer and an employer match of one hundred percent for the first ten percent of 401k contributions along with an unspoken limitless potential for growth. Ted was figuring out just how limitless as they went over the various businesses that TKVC owned as part of and the phase out/repayment contracts for the initial investments.

“Is all this legal?” Ted asked. “I mean I did your taxes last year and your net worth has sky rocketed – this should be impossible.”

Brian shot him an incredulous look and said, “You’re looking at the paper trail, Theodore. I made highly lucrative short term investments.”

“But, this many trades, increasing your initial investment hundreds in the course of weeks, is it insider trading? I can’t be involved with that,” Ted said.

Brian sighed and said, “Venture Capital is high risk, it involves a copious initial research, an eye for weeding out the lunatics and grifters and constant monitoring; which is why I need to hire a fulltime accountant.”

“But why are you still working? Your day job isn’t paying you nearly what you’re making on your investments alone,” Ted said.

“I made over six figures in bonuses at my ‘day’ job this year, I can sometimes pull in upwards of fifty thou on a few days’ work on a presentation,” Brian said. “But you’re right, it’s getting tough to work for someone else and if Marty sells the company I want to have enough capital so I don’t have to work for someone if I don’t like their vision.”

“You know I’ve been thinking about starting my own web business,” Ted said. Brian looked intrigued and lifted an eyebrow, so Ted added, “an online porn site – I mean they rake in the money and I know the business.”

“From a consumers end,” Brian said sarcastically and then pulled up a file on his laptop and emailed it to Ted before saying, “this is a format for a business plan. It list risks and how to offset liabilities and has the standard application for venture capital, if you’re interested in TKVC fronting your start-up. Off the top of my head the only thing you would need to add for porn would be to contract a reputable HR firm to oversee payroll, hiring, background checks and termination packages.”

“I’m an accountant,” Ted said, “I can do all that myself.”

Brian snorted and drained his beer before adding, “If you do it yourself, you assume all the risk. If, for instance, the police raid your ‘studio’ and some go-for is underage but has fake ID, you’re the one who takes the hit. You could personally due time for corruption of a minor. If you can say you’ve trusted the same reputable firm that hires for local banks or law offices, then you’ve got a layer of protection.”

Ted looked thoughtful and Brian got up to get them anoter beer. Ted was going to do what Ted was going to do. Hopefully if he didn’t lose everything he’d avoid his ‘crystal queen’ days but as much as Brian might want to stop him even saying he knew the future wouldn’t be enough to change it if it was what Ted was determined to do.

+

“Bacon Cheeseburger, ketchup; hold the vegetables and the mayo, and a vanilla milkshake,” Justin said.

The waitress, nowhere near as colorful as Debbie, asked, “Chips or fries, honey?”

“Onion ring?” Justin said, “oh and a slice of strawberry pie.”

‘Eat n Park’, in Squirrel Hill at nearly ten at night, with straight guys, Justin thought as the others ordered; how did this become his life? Well, kind of straight because Devon and his not-date were here, both pretending to be straight, since they’d bumped into both of them leaving the cinema. Devon looked terrified, like he was about to be outed or asked to join a gang bang as the party favor. But apparently that was normal for straight guys; well Paul and Niles were pretty immune, thanks in part to the girls. Paul got smacked by Daph or Sep if he ever got that uncomfortable look that said ‘what if the queers are checking me out’. Niles just looked above it all, mostly because Paul thought Niles was queer and Niles knew Justin had no interest in him. Niles totally was straight teenaged Ted. It was nice that Mike in some straight guy solidarity move had joined them their GSA male bonding event, which the girls had ordered - under the mistaken impression Justin had no guy friends, just to protect Paul’s virtue.

When they’d been shown to the large booth by the waitress and Justin slid in next to last, Mike who had still been standing looked horrified at the thought of sitting next to him. Justin had looked up from his seat and said, “Words cannot tell how safe you are from any form of carnal desire on my part.” At Mike’s blank look Justin had addressed the table, “Everyone, slide to the right so we can keep the straight boy’s virtue intact.” So he and Mike were on the ends of the big half circle booth, Paul was acting as a barrier between Mike and Niles with Devon next to Niles and Devon’s not-date, Drew, the same guy he’d braved Babylon with next to Justin. Justin looked at Drew and said, “Don’t worry, you’re safe, I’ve never once lost control and jumped someone during a sanctioned Gay Straight Alliance activity.”

“You’re all Gay?” Drew asked.

Everyone but Justin and Niles, including Devon said, “NO.”

“I’m the token queer,” Justin said. “And since the rest of the club is a bunch of controlling females; we all had to give up two hours of our lives – which we will never get back - to see a movie together.”

“What’d you see?” Drew asked.

Niles sighed and said, “’The Pledge’, Nicholson must really need work.”

“I blame Penn,” Justin said, “Have you seen him in interviews? He couldn’t tell a story to save his life.”

“It was kind of depressing,” Paul added, “I’m not a mystery fan but if you make me watch a guy try to catch a killer for two hours, he better catch him – otherwise it’s like watching a game only to have your team lose.”

“We should have just lied and gone to a bar and played pool,” Justin said.

Mike said, “I thought you were gay?”

“I am,” Justin said, “To me that means I like cock, what the fuck does it mean to you?” And it was on that note that waitress showed up to take their orders.

So here he was, the burger was pretty good and this little outing should get the girls off their backs about how all the guys in the GSA sort of just moved in their own spheres unlike the girls who were besties. Drew went to public school and seemed interested in what it was like to have such a variety of courses and so few students in each of them.

Judging by how relaxed Paul was sitting between Niles and Mike he had a feeling that he and Niles had talked and whatever Niles had told him or done had reassured Paul he wasn’t the only straight one. Justin would occasionally catch Mike looking at him, not in the patented Chris Hobbes ‘your being gay offends every fiber of my being’ glare or his previous horrified look at the idea of sitting next to the gay kid but kind of a confused look that indicated the jock was being made to think outside of class.

The talk was mostly about school, various classes and bitching about rules and teachers. It was Devon who caused the uncomfortable silence around the table while they were all eating pie or other desserts. He said, “Taylor, you told me even before you got suspended that you thought that rumor about Hobbes and Dixon was just someone getting him back for being…”

“A dick?” Justin asked and realized he had everybody’s attention even Drew who should have no interest in the Hobbes/Dixon rumor.

Niles said, “Didn’t your friend Dave say that Dixon might have suspended you both to throw off suspicion of the affair?”

Now Paul was looking like he was reevaluating Niles state of straightness based on him knowing any of Justin’s friends, apparently all of whom would be assumed to be gay. Mike looked intrigued, obviously having heard the speculation around school like everyone else. Drew looked clueless, but if they were talking about affairs and sex as if he planned to give the conversation his full attention.

“What made you so sure it wasn’t true? And after the suspension and everything are you still sure?” Devon asked.

Justin said, “Jesus, he’s your friend, aren’t you sure?”

“You think if he was queer and having an affair with a teacher, he’d tell his friends?” Devon asked. And yeah, since Devon was queer and Justin and Devon’s boyfriend were the only ones here who knew it he had a point about Hobbes discussing things like sexuality with friends.

Niles said, “He might not tell anyone about having an affair with a teacher, but he hasn’t really been discrete about his interest in you Justin.”

“You think he has a mad pash for you too, Niles? Cause he picks on you too. Listen, are you listening to me?” Justin said addressing them all, “I will bet you any amount of money that Dixon is not blowing Hobbes in the equipment room - despite the rumors. But do they have a relationship and is it unhealthy? Let’s all be honest, well except Drew, we’ve all seen what Dixon does. He singles out his ‘special’ boys; he does it each year, picks a freshman. It’s the same kid, different name, usually blond, athletic, hell Paul, you fit the mold – but then you play soccer as opposed to football like Chris – it is possible Dixon thinks that’s not quite straight enough. Dixon uses these kids - I’ll bet most of them never catch on – he uses them as surrogates for himself. They’re like avatars in a computer game or a screen name for cybersex. Through them he can do all the things he would get fired for - maybe, who knows, Hunt seems reluctant to recognize what’s up and if I spotted this in four years as a student you can bet the rest of the staff and administration has to have seen it – Dixon uses them to single out the undesirables and systematically make their school life a living hell. Paul, if Chris did any of the shit he does to me to you or Mike, aside from the fact you might clean his clock, Dixon would step in and actually do what staff is supposed to do, give him detention or suspend him. As long as the chosen boys go after Dixon’s targets he turns a blind eye, hell he doesn’t even have to name his target, they catch on based upon his noticing or not noticing the harassment. It’s like training a dog to attack. And if they do get caught by someone else, he remains blameless and has another dog waiting in the wings to replace them.”

“That is so incredibly fucked up,” Drew said, “It’s like ‘Apt Pupil’, and it’s going on in your school and no one notices?”

Paul actually looked thoughtful, like he was scanning his memories to see if he could notice the pattern Justin had just pointed out. Justin took the silence as an opportunity to finish his pie. Mike after looking stunned and eventually said, “Hey I play soccer, what do you mean, not straight enough.”

Licking the last of the red filling from his strawberry pie off his fork, Justin said, “Brian got a four year ride at CMU from a soccer scholarship.”

“Who’s Brian?” Mike asked.

Niles and Paul said, “His boyfriend.”

“That doesn’t make it gay,” Mike said.

Justin said, “No sport is straight or gay, not even figure skating. I guarantee just based on statistics almost every team has a gay player, even the Pittsburgh Ironmen. Here’s the thing Mike, as a straight guy, you go days, even weeks without wondering if someone thinks you’re gay. Gay men, closeted gay men who know that their life as they know it will be over if someone finds out, don’t go an hour without wondering if someone suspects.” Justin very carefully did not look at Devon, “They evaluate every word, gesture, activity, movie or friendship based upon ‘will this make someone think I’m gay’. It’s an incredibly burdensome way to live and must have its own form of PTSD attached to it because I can’t imagine the pressure of living that way. I couldn’t even make it through high school. I didn’t come out to my parents because of sex. I hadn’t even met Brian when I moved out. I just got tired of addressing all my father’s concerns about what people would think if I did or said something or wore the wrong clothes or had too many girl friends that I just wasn’t interested in romantically.”

“You moved out? How?” Drew asked.

Justin shrugged and said, “I knew it was coming. From the moment I turned seventeen I started preparing, opening a bank account, figuring out how to support myself. It was just a matter of time, it helped that my art sponsor had been in the same place when she was thirteen. Not that she was gay but her parents tossed her out when she fell for a gentile boy.”

“Thirteen? Surely social services,” Niles started.

“It was the late forties,” Justin said. “I’d have never been able to get emancipated if I hadn’t had a place to stay before I moved in with Brian.”

“You live with this guy?” Mike said, “I thought he was in college?”

Justin looked at Mike like he was crazy and then laughed and said, “Years ago. He’s twenty nine.”

The waitress brought their checks and as they were standing in line at the surprisingly busy register to pay. Justin said to Mike, “I’m not going to ask either you or Devon to join the GSA. I know Paul did it for Tracy but I’m not sure he knows what he’s let himself in for. But an Ally is someone who won’t stand back and let someone be attacked without doing something. If you’re here tonight you’re already Paul’s friend. Each of the girls have been harassed at some point for being my friend – except Tracy who we think has been protected just by her proximity to Paul. Now that the group is official, people like Hobbes are going to be targeting us, maybe by their own choice and maybe by the design of certain faculty or even the administration. Mike, don’t wait until it happens to decide what you’re going to do. Have a nice long think before you go to sleep or while you’re getting ready for school tomorrow. If you’re in the locker room or a courtyard or secluded corridor and they go after Paul; you don’t want to freeze. You’ll have a choice to join in and attack him with them to preserve your straight image, you can turn away and pretend not to see it, that’s what most of the student body does, or you can stand beside him and say while you don’t agree with him in his decision to join the club, you’re not going to stand by and let him be kicked to death by a mob.”

“You think that would happen?” Mike said.

Justin stepped up to pay as it was his turn and after swiping his debt card and putting in the pin said, “I hope not. But you’d be surprised at how quickly things can escalate to violence. Sometimes just one other person there, who could call 911 if things got out of hand, can diffuse a situation.”  


+

It was getting late and although Ted could make his own hours, Brian had to be at work in the morning, and he’d need to finalize the packing tomorrow if he was going to pick Justin up at school to get them to their flight on time on Friday. Ted was packing up some papers although most of the files they’d shared were electronic. They had debated the need to have a brick and mortar address for TKVC; it was still up in the air. Given the masturbation intervention Emmett had had to stage on Ted, Brian wondered if any work would get done from Ted’s condo.

The door to the loft rolled open, Justin entered, closed it loudly and placed his back against it as if holding off a hoard of zombies.

“Boys night out go well?” Brian chuckled.

Justin narrowed his gaze and said, “Fucking teenagers.”

But it wasn’t until Brian responded, “I don't know how anyone puts up with them.” That Ted passed the last of his beer though his nose.


	49. Because when you knocked

 

It almost took longer to get from school to the airport or from the airport to their hotel than it took to get from Pittsburgh to LaGuardia. They were staying at The Four Seasons since Brian’s hotel of choice over on Rivington wouldn’t be completed until 2005. The Four Seasons décor was a bit overstated for both their taste, but it did have it’s close proximity to the MOMA, Central Park and Time Square to its credit. Arriving around six thirty also meant they could go right to their suite.

A nap, a fuck, room service and a ride from the complimentary car service took them to a dance club that had been recommended by the trick they’d shared earlier that week. Considering all Justin’s knowledge of Manhattan’s nightlife was five years in the future it was worth taking James’ word over the risk of finding an empty warehouse where Justin’s favorite venues would one day be located.

Brian had broken his black on black uniform and was sporting a deep red over shirt over a silver mesh tank. Justin had picked a well-worn royal blue tee shirt with ‘Babylon’ emblazed on the front in silver stitching, not wanting to risk an allergic reaction from something new. They split a tablet of E and danced into the wee hours of the morning. They put on quite the show both on the dance floor and in the back room before they finally called for the car service to take them back to the hotel. Brian did love an audience and Justin enjoyed the results of trying to upstage him.

+

Emmett perched on the corner of his bed and watched HD strip out of his filthy work clothes. Winter pale skin was revealed under the red thermals he wore under his shirt and jeans as they were peeled off. Michael had complained before about tripping over those colossus work boots when HD left them in the bathroom. Now that Michael and David were in an off phase, Em made sure HD came straight to his room to change and shower before they went out. And if Michael had a problem with HD in nothing but a towel going from bath to bedroom too bad, he’s the one who’d bitched about the boots.

It was weird, Michael and he, both having boyfriends at the same time; it had never happened before. David didn’t really seem inclined to spend time at their apartment anyway. When they were in the on phases of their thing, Michael was almost always at David’s place. Em was surprised Brian was taking the monopolization of Michael’s time so well. Although Brian did make some cracks about David’s age, they seemed almost reflexive, like he felt they were expected of him. One of the cracks had been about how hanging out with Michael’s friends must make David feel old, which was still in Brian’s usual truthful style. Oddly when Michael had struck back by saying Brian ought to know, Brian had agreed. Brian pointed out that if Justin’s pack of gal pals made him feel old; then considering that the span between David and Michael was larger it was to be expected that David felt uncomfortable around all of Michael’s friends. He then asked, hadn’t Michael said David’s friends made him feel the same way. Not that insight from Brian was uncommon but this particular barb hadn’t been wielded with the force of a brick upside the head the way Brian normally pointed out the obvious.

Emmett had never thought of age as anything but a number, Michael would be thirty soon and Teddy was even older, yet he never minded being younger than them. Brian obviously didn’t have a problem with Justin’s age. Come to think of it, it was weird for Emmett to be dating someone his own age. Normally, other than the occasional one night stand he ended up with older men. When HD went off to shower, Em got up and went to the mirror hanging on the back of his door and looked closely. Sure there were fine lines around his mouth and on his forehead, but Aunt Lula would just call those laugh lines. She’d say that they were signs of a happy life. Still he wasn’t getting any younger and he’d even noticed his hair thinning a bit.

He was still there when he heard HD approach the door and Emmett stepped back to let him in. The towel hit the floor and Emmet stepped into his arms. HD slid down his body to his knees and his teeth were working his magic on the dip just by Emmett’s hip bone as he peeled Emmett out of his jeans. Emmett tossed his shirt as he was picked up and physically moved onto the bed. He started laughing and HD knelt over him and Emmett wrapped his legs around HD. HD leaned in and kissed him and there was a knock on Emmett’s bedroom door.

“That’s the inside door, right?” HD said.

Emmett sighed and said, “Michael? I’m a bit busy.”

“I just wanted to know if you were going out tonight.” Michael said.

Emmett whispered, “He’s really lonely. Brian’s out of town.”

“Tell him to take his time getting ready,” HD said.

+

Saturday morning Justin woke Brian with a blow job, and they lazed about in bed for a while, paging though the services binder for the hotel and debating getting room service or eating on the go as they shopped. The furniture show room didn’t open until 9:30 and they were literally two blocks away. There were quite a few stores in walking distance from the hotel including the furniture showroom and the only scheduled event for the whole weekend was the play tonight.

They gave room service a pass got dressed and hit the streets. They stopped for breakfast at a tiny diner, picking it mostly because the guy behind the counter was the only one there. It didn’t have booths or tables just stools in front of the counter. Sitting down they looked around but there were no menus. The guy at the counter was working on something at the grill but called over his shoulder “I got goulash or sausage, egg, fontina pizza, what’ll ya have.”*

Brian looked at him like he was crazy but Justin said, “Can I have both?”

“Sure, I’m Jason,” he said and turned and shook Justin’s hand and filled their coffee cups before looking at Brian and saying, “What’ll it be?”

“Uh, pizza?” Brian said, dumping sugar in his coffee.

“Can I have a milkshake?” Justin asked.

Jason said, “No. I got coffee and grapefruit juice.”

“I’ll have juice,” Brian said.

Justin watched the guy, Jason, pour juice and asked, “Restroom?”

“In the back to the right,” Jason said.

When Justin returned, there was a girl at a seat down from his drinking a cup of Starbuck’s coffee and Jason was eating a plate of goulash across the counter from her. Brian was eyeing his breakfast as he sipped his coffee.

“How’s the pizza?” Justin asked quietly as Jason and the girl were engaged in an intense discussion regarding some smash and grabs in the area.

Brian said, “Surprisingly good, I think this is pita bread.”

Justin ate his goulash and started on his pizza. Brian finished his coffee and sipped his juice. Jason left his conversation to refill their coffee cups and Justin asked, “Why do you have a bed in the back?”

The girl stared laughing and Jason said, “I live here.”

Brian rolled his lips in like he was fighting a smile and Justin said, “So, do you live in a diner or do you just feed strangers breakfast in your house.”

“That’s a very good question,” Jason said, but he didn’t answer it.

Brian settled their bill and Justin took the last of Brian’s pizza with him, eating as they walked down the street. Justin asked, “Was he a freak or what?”

“Cop,” Brian said.

“What?” Justin asked.

Brian put a hand on his back and steered Justin to wait at the next intersection instead of continuing with the light and said, “I was listening in on him and the woman, she’s his partner he’s a cop here in Manhattan. Think about it, rents are crazy high, he owns the building.”

“We live in a converted warehouse, so I get refurbishing commercial buildings but why does he let people in off the streets while he’s cooking?” Justin said as they crossed the street.

Brian shrugged and opened the door to ‘Resource Furniture’s showroom and said, “Maybe it’s not zoned residential, maybe he likes the company, he sure seemed amused by you. How was the goulash?”

“Really good, but I think it had cinnamon and cayenne in it, which doesn’t come to mind as your typical spice pairing,” Justin said.

Since they had previously made most of the decisions involving finishes the last time they had discovered convertible furniture, they were in and out after ordering, paying and arranging shipping with plenty of time for Brian to hit the surrounding high end clothing stores. Manhattan had always been Brian’s playground; Justin knew Brooklyn and the rest of the boroughs but he mostly came to Manhattan for the galleries and business meetings unless Brian had been visiting. While Justin waited he contacted the spa at the hotel and booked a treatment for Brian in the afternoon, when he planned to nap. Brian might not show it as much as Em but Brian always appreciated high-end spa pampering, his skin care regime was probably just as intense and had been the reason he’d still looked thirty until the day he died. It certainly hadn’t been the smoking, drinking and drugs. So if Brian was cutting back on all those to stay alive longer, Justin was going to add body wraps and facials as a reward.

+

Emmett closed Torso and headed to the diner and picked up a couple pink plates to go. He took a bus down Penn Avenue to Lawrenceville and walk the block or so from the main drag to the loft conversions HD was working on. HD had given the crew off for the weekend, except Wade who would sleep there after Babylon closed, but was using the space to get some things done. Emmett went up to the top floor, outlaw country played on a boom box hooked to AC current and HD had on safety goggles and gloves as he ground a piece of glass.

As Emmett approached to see what he was working on HD put his body between him and the project and said, “Not without goggles, hon; not when the shards could be flying you’ll blind yourself.” He shut down the grinder and put the piece aside.

Once HD removed his own glasses and gloves, Emmett stepped up. He’d checked through and labeled the bins of colored glass pieces himself to correspond with number in HD’s design. HD had presented him with a sketch of what he intended to make, like a paint by numbers pattern only Emmett picked the color to go with each number. These would go over the four windows on the first floor that looked out onto a brick wall. The stained glass would shut out the ugly and let in the light. In what was planned to be the building’s secure entrance hall, HD would put in an indoor bike rack, mailboxes for each unit and at Emmett’s suggestion a small seating area where the residence could wait for rides or deliveries in comfort.

The colors looked even better than Emmett had pictured them. The design was kind of arts and craft and went well with the period lines of the building. The colors were predominantly pink and orange with just enough purple and dark green for balance. Emmett had seen a garment with these colors in years ago and had always wished they’d had it in his size, but it had been in the Junior Miss department so no such luck. HD had four nearly identical windows he was working to fit over the interiors of the double glazed replacement windows he’d already used to replace the old broken glass blocks.

“This is going to look amazing, I can’t wait to see them hanging in the light,” Emmett said, coming up behind HD.

HD was quiet and scuffed the toe of his work boot on the gritty floor and then said, “You know, the top front unit should be habitable soon. It won’t be rentable because of all the noise and work going on in the rest of the building and it’ll need some finishing work but someone could move in, if they didn’t mind.”

Emmett smiled to himself, slipped his arm around HD’s waist and pressed his body to HD’s back and leaned his head to rest against one of HD’s shoulder blades. Emmett said, “I thought Wade was already sleeping here?”

“On a cot, mostly to keep the site secure and the natives from stealing everything not nailed down, and some stuff that is,” HD said. “And he can move to the next unit, him sleeping here is to make up for him starting late every day because he still works at Babylon; and because he doesn’t want to drive out to Suttersville and stay with his parents.”

“I hope that boy is getting laid,” Emmett said.

HD snorted and said, “I really don’t care, he’s never asked for my input on the matter.”

“What do you care about?” Emmett asked, sliding his hands down from HD’s waist, cupping his package with one hand while unbuttoning his 501s with the other.

HD said, “Well you’re on the right track. Notice the distinct lack of roommates. Since Michael and his boyfriend are on the outs have you noticed-”

“Yeah, he has been around more,” Emmett said as HD’s breathing sped up. “I’m just used to it because, until David, there really wasn’t anyone but Brian who monopolized his time. And since Brian has been twitterpated by Justin he’s been noticeably absent.”

HD guided Emmett’s hand back on course as he’d gotten distracted while they talked and said, “I like your friends, it’s just sometimes, like now, I don’t want to hang out with them, or have them inviting us to go to breakfast in the middle of sex. And I double dog dare you to use the word twitterpated to Brian’s face.”

“You do; do you?” Emmett’s said freeing HD’s cock from the confines of his jeans and beginning a slow leisurely pumping rhythm.

HD’s voice broke as he gasped out, “At any time during this conversation did I manage to ask you to move in with me?”

+

As they strolled along the theater district after the show, Brian was still amazingly mellow either from his time at the spa or the joint he had smoked before they headed to the venue. The show hadn’t been bad, the music and dancing had him in the mood to take Justin in his arms and dance naked around the loft. Justin was a warm, welcome presents tucked under his arm and while Brian got to enjoy his body heat, he kept Justin from walking in to people and structures as he gaped around at the lights like a tourist.

“The night’s young, and we’re in the city that never sleeps, want to hit another club?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “Do you think they still have Saturday night socials at that dance studio?” Proving to Brian that Justin was also in the mood to slide into his arms and move to the music.

“Still have or have yet?” Brian teased. “That’s,” and he looked around to get his bearings, “that way, right?”

It was later; most of the social’s started at eight. But Brian paid the entry fee and they entered one of the largest ballrooms in Manhattan. They had, or would have danced here often; hitting it for schmaltzy romantic dancing before they had hit the clubs for hard driving sexy dancing. Brian swept Justin out on to the floor to cha-cha to a Latin number. Emmett and Justin may have routinely made fun of Brian’s club dancing but at ballroom, he was in his element.

Since they’d arrived late they didn’t leave the dance floor until they were closing the place at midnight. Brian bought them a couple bottles of water to take with them and a woman, obviously one of the instructors who worked there approached Justin to see if he was interested in classes or competing. Brian sidled up behind Justin and handed him a bottle. The woman broke off her conversation with Justin and smiled brightly at Brian before saying, “You two must have been dancing together for years. Justin tells me you’re from Pittsburgh, do you compete there?”

“We haven’t found the time, and Pittsburgh is pressed for venues, unlike New York,” Brian said.

Justin leaned back against him as he swigged the cold water and said, “Maybe Babylon should have Ballroom Mondays at least once a month.”

“You should suggest that to the owner,” Brian said, reminding Justin that that wasn’t him anymore, or yet.

Justin giggled and Brian figured his new friend would be far more likely to think he’d dropped some club drugs than guess Justin was once again amused by the English language’s lack of forethought concerning time travel.

“I think someone still wants to dance,” Brian said, “Any recommendations? It doesn’t have to be ballroom.”

“You can’t go wrong with the Copa, and it’s open until six,” she said.

They went to the Copacabana and found a Latin party in session so broke out the Salsa dancing until almost three before sending for a car. The next morning was rough and they checked out and stored their luggage with the desk ordering a ride to the airport for four in the afternoon.

Justin wanted to go to Jason’s place and see what he was making for breakfast. But the lights were out and given that he had another job Brian figured it was a hit or miss type dining establishment. They took a cab down Madison and found a little place willing to stuff Justin with breakfast paninis on the way to the Met.

Once inside, Justin made a beeline to the modern art wing. Not that they hadn’t been there before, although now that he looked around Brian noticed some of his favorites were missing; or rather weren’t there yet. He wandered at his own pace, noting the changes and caught up with Justin by Tony’s painting. Brian wrapped his arms around Justin, holding him back to front as they looked at the painting and said, “that’ll be you someday.”

“It doesn’t have to be, you know,” Justin said. “I don’t need that. I will always need to paint, draw, create, but I don’t need the damn shows or articles or to be the talk of the town. I just want to communicate. If you get it, if I can get what I’m trying to say out, on canvas so it’s there tomorrow and after I’m gone, it’s enough. Sure the money’s nice; it beats bussing tables any day. But I refuse to give up one minute with you so that a bunch of pretentious cunts can judge whether or not I’m relevant when they can’t see what’s right in front of them.”

Brian chuckled and kissed the side of Justin’s neck before murmuring, “And people thought you were impossible the first time you were seventeen.”

“I’m almost eighteen,” Justin muttered, “or you know thirty five.”

“Your time travel math is off,” Brian said.

“I was almost thirty three when this all started,” Justin said.

“And you haven’t been here a year yet,” Brian said.

“Time living in Craig’s house counts like dog years, Brian,” Justin said.

Brian sighed and asked, “Have I grown up or is he less of a dick?”

“I think it helped that he got a chance to wrap his head around the theory of a gay son before faced with the hot sex shark of a lover,” Justin said, “And I think being a father yourself has you’re less in your face with him.”

Brian groused, “way to go I want to both say I’m not a predator and say I am too in your face, you manipulative little WASP; how do you do that?”

“Practice. Seriously, it’s like you should have your own nature documentary. You had the old ladies at the ballroom last night needing to change their panties and then an hour later at the Copa you had men fighting each other to suck your dick,” Justin said.

Brian said, “Simultaneously gross and arousing; let’s find a bathroom so you can administer to my traumatized psyche.”

They spent a few hours at the Met and then wandered the neighborhood. Stopping in a high-end shoe shop, because Brian really needed one more pair of overpriced imported Italian shoes. They stopped at the MOMA, lunching in the café there on the way back to the hotel.

+

Emmett dragged HD to brunch with Michael and Teddy at a popular diner in the South Side. They timed their arrival before the church crowd would flood in with children and got a table up front by the window.

“Why didn’t we go to that place with the rude waitress, I though you liked that?” HD asked.

Michael said, “That’s my mom.”

“Condolences,” HD said, “she really shouldn’t work with people.”

“Honey,” Emmett said and placed his left hand on HD’s thigh, “so Teddy, I understand things are looking up.”

Ted smiled, obviously spotting the need for a subject change and said, “They are. Getting fired may end up being the best thing to happen to me. I could have ended up wasting years in a job I hated. My new job is technically a promotion; I can work from home for now and can have more power to make recommendations to the businesses that I crunch the numbers on regarding how they’re managed. More vacation, better benefits, Brian really came though.”

“That’s wonderful, sweetie, I’m so happy for you,” Emmett said. “I don’t know if I could work from home, not if it involved not seeing any people all day. Don’t you get lonely?”

“I didn’t see anyone sitting in my office, which was smaller than most bathrooms – that’s probably why I spent so much time surfing the net,” Ted said. “And since I make my own hours, I can go work from the library or anywhere with Wi-Fi.”

“How secure is that?” HD asked.

Ted looked nonplus and said, “Well everything is encrypted but I never thought, do you think the signal can be intercepted?”

HD shrugged and looked at Emmett as if he knew, and Emmett loved that about him. Most people heard the accent or that he worked retail and just treated him like nothing more than a pretty face. Of course in this case he had no idea but it was the thought that counted. Emmett offered, “I don’t know much about it but, maybe hire someone to look into it? Or call one of the schools?”

“Sep says CMU’s campus has free Wi-Fi set up for the students, maybe call their computer department; see if they do consultations,” HD said, “more and more people are going to be using it like that so someone must be looking into it, besides the criminals.”

“I still don’t get how that works,” Michael said.

Emmett blinked and looked at Ted who started to outline network hotspots and carrier signals and then the waitress was waiting to take their order so HD said, “it’s like a cell phone for your computer. Can I get steak and eggs with rice instead of hash browns and a mimosa?”

The waitress gave him a look but didn’t say he couldn’t have rice so Emmett said, “A mimosa sounds lovely, and can I get a cappuccino as well, I’ll have biscuits and sausage gravy.”

Ted had a mushroom omelet and a bloody Mary and Michael ordered French toast and bacon, with a latte before he started to bitch about the fact Deb had found out that he and David had stopped dating. He was a bit put out since she wanted him to call and apologize and there was nothing to apologize for they had just decided to stop seeing each other.

“Maybe your mom needs a man of her own,” HD offered and received a truly horrified look from Michael. “I’m just saying, my Mum is not nearly as invested in my sex life, and it’s probably because she has her own to deal with.”

“She didn’t mention she was seeing anyone,” Emmett said.

HD said, “Well thank God she doesn’t share details, but I think she’s still keeping time with this landscaper from out in Grapesville. He’s a couple years younger than her but she met him at a chamber of commerce event and I trust her judgement, except he’s still sporting a mullet and doesn’t play hockey but as long as she’s happy me and Marc are fine with it.”

“You’ve met his mother?” Ted asked, his eyes dancing.

Emmett said, “Hush you,” as their drinks arrived.

+

While everyone else was still storing carryon and finding their seats, Justin said, “Thank you, Brian. This was wonderful. How about I drop out, you quit your job and we just travel the world? Dancing, and fucking all day and all night?”

“I love a man with a plan,” Brian said from the comfort of first class. He lifted the arm between them an pulled Justin closer.

They made out until the stewardess started the preflight lecture and had them buckle up. Before they knew it they were in the air and on their way home. Justin kind of felt guilty he had Martin Luther King day off tomorrow and Brian had to work. But they would be back at the loft in time to check his emails and see if he could sleep in. He had expected to hear from Vic by now regarding Hunter but hadn’t given it much thought or even checked his voice mails while in New York.

They arrived in Pittsburgh early enough that ‘Hugo Boss’ and ‘Brooks Brothers’ were still open in the mall the terminals emptied into and Brian being Brian they had to stop. A new tie, two sweaters and a pair of swim trunks later Justin dragged Brian to pick up their bags. They hadn’t been gone long enough to warrant long term parking and caught a shuttle to the Jeep.

Justin checked his voice mail on the drive back to the loft, there were multiple messages from the girls but none from Vic or Debbie. They may need to start working on an alternative placement for Hunter. But none of the messages from the girls indicated Tracy’s dad had figured out he had a squatter in his pool house and Daphne had been in touch with Mason and set up a time to have him and Hunter meet even if they didn’t have a residence for him yet. But there was nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

They picked up take out from ‘Red Lobster on their way from the airport. Justin couldn’t remember what they had in the way of food at home. Home. God it felt good to be back. They rolled the door open to the loft and dump their bags and dove into their meals. Justin then dug out the nutmeg and ginger body oil he’d picked up at the brand new Jo Malone store and had Brian strip down for a massage. Maybe his wasn’t as studied or effective as the one at the spa, but this one would come with a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *** Yes that was an ode to ‘The Unusuals’ a short lived but much loved series – come on, Brian and Justin couldn’t be in Manhattan and not stop by Walsh’s diner.


	50. He thought you were the candy man.

 

Since Brian had to work for the holiday and school was closed, Justin was running errands before heading to his studio to get some work done. While Sep remembered socks and underwear she hadn’t thought to get Hunter any jockstraps or lounging clothes. Given that his current days were taken up sleeping, eating and playing video games she could have held off on dressing him like a hipster. Although he probably did need some sunglasses or he’d be snow-blind by March.

“Hey Tracey, how’ve you been?” Justin said, he should have grabbed a cart but hadn’t intended to buy much. What had started as just a quick run in for some supplies for Hunter; had morphed into grabbing things that caught his eye and now the basket was overflowing.

“Justin!” Tracey said. “So good to see you, how’s Brian?”

“We just got back from New York, so I hope he all shopped out for a while,” Justin said. “So since Chris would suck at girl talk, I have to ask; sparks?”

Tracey lit up with a big grin, a fat older woman, with a name tag lingered across the aisle obviously eavesdropping. Tracey said, “I had a very nice time, he had a very nice time and we’ve seen each other twice since then, we’re keeping it causal – just getting to know each other. Oh! I won the silent auction, on that tennis bracelet. My bid of one hundred and thirty was the highest; it was valued at a thousand. I can’t wear it to work obviously but I never win and first the spa certificates, and now this.”

“Congratulations,” Justin said, refraining from mentioning jewelry tended to be marked up so much that she probably still paid too much for the bracelet. “So was one of your two dates to the spa or did you take your roommate.”

“I don’t think Chris is metrosexual enough for spa treatments. Sharon drove, we went last weekend and had a blast. Chris took me to see a little jazz trio at the Cabaret at Theater Square, I felt very trendy and hip. And he took me to the City Theater in the South Side we saw ‘ _A Hole In The Dark’_. Got to say I enjoy that he likes more cerebral things, a girl can get tired of one more explosion and a car chase,” Tracey said.

Justin cut his eyes to their audience and said, “Forget about cerebral, how is he in the sack?”

“Justin!” She giggled and said, “Marley did you need something?”

“Who’s your friend dear?” Marley said.

Tracey said, “This is Justin, I’m going to help him find what he’s looking for,” and grabbed him by the arm and lead him away. Women always seemed to be bodily moving him; he was probably much safer being gay. She said, “Not that it isn’t nice to see you, but this isn’t really your type of store.”

“Because of the poor reputation for how the gay staff members and customers are treated or because you’ve only ever seen me in a tux?” he asked.

“You weren’t in a tux the night Brian introduced you to Sharon and I,” she said. “And yeah, Michael seemed to give the impression that you and Brian are all but heterophobic.”

“Michael’s a whiney little drama princess, I have straight friends, I probably have more straight friends that he does,” Justin said. “The gay-straight alliance at my school has a service project we’ve sponsored a teen in trouble, we’re outfitting him in school supplies now that he’s been removed from his home.”

“That’s so sweet, I never really got into volunteering until college,” she said.

Justin asked, “Where did you go?”

“Just CCAC, I have a two year associate’s degree. Now that Michael is in the running for manager I’m hoping to make assistant, there should be a spot opening up whoever’s picked, but I hope it’s him, he deserves it,” she said.

Tracey accompanied him and he texted Sep for sizes before grabbing a couple jocks, pajama bottoms and tee shirts along with a heavy coat and winter gear off the markdown racks. Justin told her about the nonprofit group and texted Tracey their web information. She said she’d ask the new district manager, who used to be their store manager if he would set up a donation at the checkouts. Apparently they frequently asked customers if they wanted to add a dollar to their bills to give to various charities. Justin cautioned her to read the website first to see if it was something her district manager would be comfortable sponsoring.

+

Lindsay put Gus down, she thought she heard the front door close, but she knew she locked it. Clipping the handheld monitor to her belt loop she looked around the nursey and spotted a ‘Swiffer’ as the closest thing to a weapon. She grasped the handle, holding the padded head over her shoulder and snuck down the stairs. At times like this she wished the agency had found them an au pair already.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs she heard the floor in the dining room creak and rounded the corner with the ‘Swiffer’ held high and said, “Ahh!” She barely managed to stop herself from braining Mel who had been absently sorting through the mail.

Mel had joined her in the “Ahh,” and added a “Jesus, Linz. You scared the crap out of me.”

“Well you could have called out, let me know it was you creeping around. I thought it was a stealthy home invasion. Why aren’t you at work?” Lindsay said.

Mel took the ‘Swiffer’ gently from her and set it in the corner. She said, “I didn’t want to wake Gus if he was sleeping. Come on, baby, have a seat I want to talk to you.”

They sat on the sofa and hundreds of thoughts from, what if Mel lost her job, to if maybe Mel was sick or something, were racing through Lindsay’s mind. Lindsay said, “Say it fast I’m thinking the worst.”

“Its good news, I promise,” Mel said, “I’ve been looking into fertility treatments. Things have changed since we were in college. I had a procedure today. Very low risk; the doctor is reasonably sure the results were successful. I should be able to conceive.”

Lindsay felt tears come to her eyes and she hugged Mel saying, “That’s wonderful. Why am I just hearing about it? I would have gone with you.”

Mel said, “I didn’t want to jinx it. I mean, they said when I was a teen I’d never be able to conceive and I’d though I resigned myself to it. But you and Gus, it was so beautiful watching him grow and change every time we went to the OBGYN.”

Lindsay stayed on the couch with one arm around Mel. She’d known it was serious when Mel asked her to sit down. From thinking the worst, that God forbid Mel was sick, to know that she was actually healed, that she could now have children after thinking so long that she was barren, the tears of joy that had been in her eyes were now freely falling down her face. She took Mel’s hand in hers and said, “I knew it was hitting hard, I could see it in your eyes during the exams. I felt guilty, even though you never seemed jealous, that I was making it harder.”

“I love Gus, he will always be my son,” Mel said. “Even if we didn’t have the paperwork to tell the outside world, he’s in my heart I can’t imagine loving him any more than I do. It’s just when we would go see your doctor and she told me about all the advances in fertility medicine, I started to hope and then when I found out I could have it done as an outpatient. I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you but,” Mel signed and squeezed Lindsay’s hands, “I was afraid to get my hopes up, but it seemed doubly cruel to get yours up too.”

“But everything when well?” Lindsay asked.

“Text book,” Mel said. “I could go back to work tomorrow, but I scheduled it off just in case and the doctor recommended waiting at least a full cycle to try and conceive.”

“Oh, baby, that’s wonderful,” Lindsay said, throwing her arms back round Mel. They hung on to each other, both crying tears of joy and they left their arms loosely around each other’s necks

“We should celebrate,” Lindsay said, “unless you don’t feel up to it?”

Mel said with a leer, “what did you have in mind”

“Oh, you, we can do that anytime. Let’s go out,” Lindsay said. “It’s Dyke Nite at Babylon let’s go dancing.”

“Where are we getting a sitter if every dyke in Pittsburgh is at Babylon,” Mel said.

Lindsay gave a mischievous grin and said, “Well Brian is probably moaning at the loss of his playground so let’s give him a call.”

+

Justin hung up the phone. Brian was stopping to pick up Gus after work and suggested Justin bring takeout, specifying actual food typed takeout. Justin was planning to call in an order to the Greek Place, he could get the pistachio crusted salmon for Brian and grilled lamb chops for himself. It would be nice to spend an evening in and have an excuse to turn down the girls if they wanted him over to confer on their latest project or love lives. Not that they wouldn’t call and he couldn’t blame them. Despite dropping off his purchases and some ‘Boston Market’ ribs and chicken for Hunter, they still hadn’t heard from Vic and Debbie regarding them taking Hunter in.

He had a feeling each the girls were racking her brain and Daphne had suggested feeling out their parents on how they felt about fostering. Brittney had been the one to suggest they ask about placing an exchange student rather than tell the whole prostitute story. And the girls did know all of it, Tracy had kept her word but Hunter must have figured it was all going to come out and had let them in on most of it; he’d used sarcasm and silence to spare them the most graphic details. Ironically Paul and Niles were still in the dark, or if Niles had figured it out he was giving the kid a pass and just pretending to think he was homeless.

Mason Waynewright was eager to interview Hunter and get the police moving on the investigation and was suggesting they find temporary housing for him before his mother could report him missing. Time was running out and they might have to risk Hunter getting pulled into the system if they didn’t get a place to house him.

As he started back to work on the today’s painting and his phone rang. The caller id showed it was Vic, finally.

+

“Here. It’s not a present it just makes it easier for me,” Brian said, handing Mel a bag and walking past her into the living room. He went straight for Gus and Lindsay handed him over and asked if she could get Brian something to drink.

Mel gingerly looked in the ‘Saks Fifth Avenue’ shopping bag. It was probably unconscious on Brian’s part, unlike her Aunt Fran, who would keep a bag like this forever, and use it whenever she took things to people’s houses so people thought she shopped there, Brian probably routinely shopped at the most overpriced and pretentious store downtown. Even though Brian declined the offer, Lindsay excused herself to get some final things together. Mel said, “You’re giving us your car seat?”

“No. I just ordered you another base. It’s stupid to have to wake the kid to move him from one car seat to the other. This way we can just snap Gus out and haul him around from car to car without waking him up,” Brian said.

Mel said, “We could do that with the one you have, just move the base.”

“That sounds like work, easier just to buy multiple bases,” Brian said, holding Gus at eye level and blinking back at him.

Mel watched how riveted he was by Gus, even though Gus was still at the blinking and spit bubble stage of communication, when not crying or squeaking. The baby books said infants responded better to the higher pitches of mother’s voices, but the minute Brian was near, the kid’s attention was focused solely on him, like Brian held the secrets of the universe in his gaze. It was mutual though. She would never have thought it possible but Brian’s interest hadn’t waned after the first weeks, Brian Kinney was just as besotted with his son now as the first night.

Mel had been wary throughout Lindsay’s pregnancy that choosing Brian had been a bad idea. She’d never seen why Lindsay - who shouldn’t be susceptible to whatever mind control powers Brian Kinney possessed where gay men and straight women were concerned - was so fond of Brian. Sure he was attractive, and who didn’t want their kid to be attractive, but he didn’t seem to be the type to be interested in being a father. But, he’d obviously researched the legal ramifications, if not before conception then after, because he’d been right, the bastard. If they hadn’t had the documentation the first time Gus had an ear infection, she’d have been left out in the cold. It had felt very satisfying to slap that bitch of a nurse with a custody agreement; that, and the threat of a lawsuit when she tried to prevent Mel from accompanying Lindsay to the exam room. Somewhere, when she wasn’t looking, Lindsay’s slutty BFF had grown up, and while Mel wouldn’t call him a good man, he wasn’t the antichrist anymore, and he was a surprisingly good father.

Mel had already installed one like it in Brian’s car but glanced at the paperwork in the bag with it out of habit. She said, “This says something about a stroller it fits into.”

“I left that on the porch,” Brian said. As if he didn’t just drop another couple hundred, or knowing Brian’s penchant for just asking for the most expensive one, thousand on these ‘accessories’ and he had to be all blasé as if it was just a given that he was doing it to make it all easier on himself.

He really was the most infuriating man, even if he had seemed to be growing up. So she had to push, “this is all because you can’t take fifteen minutes to learn to install the car seat yourself, isn’t it.”

“Why should I learn to do that,” and if he thought she was going to be taken in by that Peter Pan grin on his face, he was sadly mistaken, “that’s what I have dykes for.”

“Brian!” Lindsay said, she’d brought Gus’ bags and a bottle that she relinquished to Brian, “what’s that?”

“It’s that base for that ridiculously expensive car seat he returned our son in,” Mel said.

“It had a five star rating,” Brian said, “You should never shop by price on car seats or surgery.”

Mel rolled her eyes; well he was babysitting on short notice, although why he couldn’t stay here. But this way they could come home tipsy without having to worry about diaper changes or feedings. And Lindsay did love to get dressed up, she looked hot too, despite Brian’s teasing about the baby weight Lindsay looked good with a few extra pounds. Mel wondered if when she got pregnant she’d develop a rack finally. She had even resigned herself, at least privately, to the fact that it had been some random flippant remark Brian had made during Lindsay’s pregnancy that made her ask about what advances had been made since she’d been diagnosed with endometriosis all those years ago.

Brian finished feeding Gus and smoothly lay him face down along his forearm, gently rubbing his back. He’d tossed a towel across his jeans, and she wouldn’t put it passed the bastard to be wearing five hundred dollar jeans to lounge around his fuck pad. Gus burped and for once didn’t send that corrosive baby barf that discolored every suit of hers he’d done it on. Mel was going to start trying Brian’s forearm technique, because she could not afford to keep replenishing her court wear.

“All packed? Just tonight right?” Brian asked.

Lindsay nodded and said, “Just drop him on your way to the office tomorrow.”

“Well, have fun at Dyke Nite,” Brian said, wiping Gus’ mouth.

Mel laughed and said, “Don’t be bitter you’ll have your playground back for the weekend, I saw the flyers at the diner, big drag competition this weekend.”

“Emmett’s performing it’s a benefit and Justin wants to go,” Brian said, pushing his tongue into his cheek and smirking.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing it myself,” Lindsay said. “I can’t imagine Emmett in drag.”

“I can,” Brian said. “It’s seared into my brain and it’s pretty horrific.”

Mel said, “Better not say that in front of his boyfriend.”

“So they’re dating?” Lindsay asked.

“Not so much dating as inseparable,” Brian said. “They’re at Woody’s a lot, Babylon about twice a week, and Vic says they stop by Liberty House a couple times a week. That old drag queen is the closest thing that Em has to family.”

“How is Godiva,” Lindsay asked. “I haven’t seen him since Pride.”

“Off his last legs,” Brian said, “wheelchair bound. Allegedly he’s going to be on the panel of judges Saturday, but I get the feeling he’s holding on for Honeycutt’s sake. It won’t be long; wouldn’t surprise me if that was his last Pride.”

“You’re a heartless bastard,” Mel said.

Brian leaned forward, situating Gus in the carrier and taking a moment to adjust the cushions on the side and move the padding before strapping him in as he said, “reflexive platitudes and trite statements of concern with all the sincerity of ‘please let me know if there’s anything I can do’ have never really been my style and I won’t insult a dying man by saying it’s all going to get better,” Brian said, with no venom or real emotion in his voice, “there’s nothing I can do to keep him from dying or keep Emmett from grieving. But if it was me, I wouldn’t want all the people who thought I deserved it to pretend to suddenly give a fuck.”

And that was Brian Kinney in a nutshell, venomously honesty. He’d never be on the board of the GLC or tapped to represent the community in any way. Yet he was the most unapologetic, uncompromising advocate of not so much gay rights as the rights of everyone to figure out who they were, what they wanted and to get the hell on with it. His lack of compassion, which had always seemed so narcissistic, was actually compassionate in a way, and it was all Mel could do not to laugh out loud at that thought. So many of the activists and community leaders tried to unsex themselves, to paint themselves as straight people who just happened to fall in love with a person of their own gender. Not Brian, he installed a seventeen year old in his life and if anyone had had the balls to ask him why he’d say that Justin was a great fuck or if he was feeling like toning down his trashy mouth that the two of them were sexually compatible. People, even or rather especially her, got so angry at him when all he really did was live his life without thought or concern for how uncomfortable he made everyone else.

Well she wasn’t going to spend one more damn minute thinking about Brian fucking Kinney. Melanie was taking her honey out on the town, they were going to hire a cab and dance and drink and come home and shake the rafters, before sleeping in and maybe going out to brunch tomorrow with Gus. They had a lot to celebrate. The agency had called while they were waiting for Brian and they would be meeting their new au pair on Friday. A twenty two year old man from Australia who was enrolled in Point Park College graduate program. He took two classes per semester and had already been attending for a year. The agency said the family he was previously with was moving to Boston and he was happy to be placed in the area and not have to switch schools.

As Brian left with Gus, Mel brought the stroller he’d left on the porch inside.

“What’s that?” Lindsay asked.

Mel parked it by the couch and said, “Your lily of the field doesn’t want to manhandle his offspring once we get him to sleep. I swear Lindz, Brian would keep Gus in the car seat until he can drive himself if it means he doesn’t wake up.”

“Does the car seat fit on here? What a great idea. You know I still have trouble with it when you’re not around, this will be so much easier,” Lindsay said.

Mel rolled her eyes because sometimes she did get why those two were friends.

+

Justin shifted the bag of take out to his other hand and wished he’d thought to hit the security buzzer when he opened the street door downstairs, then Brian would have had the door open and waiting. Instead, after nearly dropping dinner, he rolled open the door. Debbie’s voice was a surprise as he stepped inside.

“I remember the first time I heard your name. Michael says, 'there is this new boy in school - Brian Kinney’. For weeks, that's all he could talk about. Brian Kinney this, and Brian Kinney that. And then the next thing I knew, you were cutting classes. And then I come home from work one day, and there you were, fourteen and drunk. It was then that I knew you were trouble. And you haven't disappointed me a day since then,” she said.

Brian drawled, “Well, at least you can't accuse me of being inconsistent.” Justin could see Brian’s face but not Debbie’s as she had her back to him. Brian had that look, the one Justin hated, as if he were just waiting for the knife to be slipped between his ribs.

Debbie was in no mood for Brian’s levity and said, “Consistent heartbreak!”

“C'mon Deb, you know I've looked out for Mikey,” Brian said. Too much in Justin’s opinion, Michael needed to man up and take charge of his own life.

Debbie wasn’t backing down and nearly shouted, “I never said you weren't there for him. You've been there too much! Always giving him those little extra tidbits of your affection, huh? To make him believing that maybe, someday, you'd be his.”

Justin had enough and said, “Seriously. Debbie. Back the fuck off. Your son is about to turn thirty. You do not need to be doing shit like this; stop fucking emasculating Michael; let him be a man.”

“This is none of your business,” she said.

Justin unslung his messenger bag and tossed it by the desk before he carried the food over to the dining room table. Justin looked around but didn’t see any sign of Gus and Brian nodded in the direction of the bedroom. How the kid hadn’t woken up was beyond him. He said, “I beg to differ; you’re in my home, yelling at my man, because he never fucked your son. Brian, did Michael ever say he wanted to have sex with you?”

“No, but -,” Brian started.

Justin cut him off and said to Debbie, “Let’s be honest, this isn’t about Brian never nailing Michael. Something in your life is not going the way you wanted and you need someone to blame. Brian, as always, is your first choice. Brian is responsible for Brian, and only Brian. So unless it’s Brian who is unhappy, fuck off.”

“Mikey broke up with the Doc,” Brian said.

Debbie said, “He had a chance with David but you had fuck it up!”

“He wasn't having any fun!” Brian said

Debbie said, “He has enough fun! You've all had enough fun! It's time for him to be a man!”

“So have this fucking shouting match with your son! Tell Michael you don’t think he’s a man because he won’t sell himself so you can brag about your son’s life as a doctor’s wife. Tell him how you don’t care if David makes him feel like some dumb kid with no class that all that’s important is he be his kept man,” Justin said.

Debbie said, “That’s not what I meant. Michael really liked David.”

“What do you want me to do about that?” Brian said, “I never told him to break up with David.”

Debbie said, “Well, I don't know! Something! You owe my kid something!

“What the actual fuck,” Justin said reaching for the first thing available, a container of orzo. “Where do you get off-”

Brian put a hand over Justin’s mouth and took the container of orzo from him before he could hurl it at Debbie and said, “OK, I'll do something. It's Mikey's thirtieth birthday at the end of the month. He should have a party he never forgets. Now get the fuck out because Justin will throw food at you and give you this long lecture on emotional extortion and the corruption of the parent-child dynamics in adulthood. I’ve heard it before he can go on for hours and if you can’t summarize the concept he’ll think you weren’t listening and start all over again.”

+

Emmett was modeling the Jessica Rabbit dress. Godiva had altered it to fit like a glove. He’d better not gain an ounce between now and Saturday. The opera gloves were a bit snug but Godiva had assured him they would stretch out and become more comfortable in time. He’d ordered new stockings, two pair just in case and he really should get a leg waxing before Saturday. He had the wig band on and Godiva was just finishing up styling the blond Veronica Lake wig to complete the look. He’d done his own make up. It was all understated except for the eye liner and he still hadn’t put on the lipstick. Red was such a messy color, the base of primer was on but he would wait until the last minute, just like on show night, to put on the color.

With Godiva in the chair and the dress all but forcing him to stay standing he would have to get put the finishing touches on the wig when it was on his head himself. He’d done it for Godiva many times, the final primping. Making sure no threads hung, that everything was tucked that should be tucked, and no flyaway or smudges showed. Patting the hair and making sure every strand was in place he used a lip pencil to even out the color on his lips and stood back from the mirror.

“Oh honey, you should be a star,” Godiva said with a proud smile.

There was a flash of a camera and HD said, “Paparazzi.”

That caused Emmett to giggle and Godiva to say, “Give that here.”

Godiva took a few more shots, positioning Emmett in different corners of the room, before having HD stand beside him. HD murmured, “It’s like prom.”

“Hush you,” Godiva said his own North Carolina High Tider accent stronger than usual.

Emmett blushed when HD added, “You look beautiful, like a movie star.”

They made an odd pair HD in black jeans his steel toed work boots and a gray hoodie and Emmett decked out like a Forties femme fatale.

Vic stopped by the doorway to Godiva’s room and gave a wolf whistle. “You going to be there Saturday?” HD asked.

“Oh, I’m a little old for Babylon,” Vic said.

“It’s for charity,” HD said.

At the same time Emmett said, “Please, I need all the moral support I can get, bring Deb if she’s not working she’ll get a kick out of it.”

“While there’s life, you’re never too old,” Godiva added.

“Deb and I might be taking in a kid,” Vic said. “But I’ll see if I can get there.”

“I’ll leave your name at the door, under special guest,” Emmett said.

HD asked, “This same kid September’s hiding like he’s part of the underground railroad?”

“That’s where he is?” Vic said.

HD said, “It’s very hush, hush, she won’t say where their keeping him, for all I know their driving him around in a van. Apparently I can’t know for my own protection. She has however hit me up for cash twice. I was beginning to think it was a scam and that the kid was fictitious.”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Emmett said.

HD looked at him and said, “Only because she hadn’t thought of it.”

+

Justin sat on the floor, they were having dinner on the coffee table and Brian had been preoccupied planning Michael’s surprise party. “You can say it,” Justin said.

“Say what?” Brian said and took another bite of his salmon.

Justin fellatiate his lamb rib bone to get the last of the meat off it and looked up at Brian before saying, “I overstepped; you’re an adult and are perfectly capable of dealing with Debbie. You don’t need me to jump in and I make things harder on you when I do.”

“This is going to sound odd, considering what you just said, but don’t put words in my mouth,” Brian said. “For fifteen years, I chose to have you in my life. Given the chance to do it all again, I chose to get you back into my life; even if we are back to everyone thinking I’m robbing the cradle. It’s not horrible, having you on my side, and not just at my side. We’ve talked about this before. We can’t remember everything, what we wore, what we said, there’s no way we can help but change things. But to this day I remember her coming to me after I did all she asked and after I made it so Michael would never forgive me and sever all ties.”

“I was there,” Justin said, “she said it was the best thing that could ever happen, I remember how you looked. Why do you think I did everything I could to get you two to start speaking to each other again? I know you like to let people hang themselves – you are the king of tough love. But you’re so willing to let them hurt you. Brian, just protect yourself, please. When she starts this you owe him or you owe her – tell her to fuck off. Whatever it is she thinks she did that puts you in her debt, was her choice – tell her to live with the consequences. I swear if she starts pulling this shit with Hunter I’ll find a new place for him.”

“They’re definitely taking him?” Brian asked.

“Vic called right before I left the studio,” Justin nodded and said, “Pending Margret meeting them and doing an onsite, she knows what would be looked for and can tell them any changes they would have to make to pass inspection.”

Justin’s phone buzzed and he checked his text message, before asking, “Do you have a problem with Em stopping by? We talked about doing some publicity stills and he’s just picked up his costume and has his makeup and hair ready.”

Brian snorted and said, “sure why not, I can even use my software to shop out the background. Is Emmett catering parties yet? Think I can hire him to put this shindig together?” “What have you got so far?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “Start of the guest list, Captain Astro stripper and I already bought issue one, months ago. Do we really want to trash the loft? Maybe rent a private club or bar?”

“Maybe call your insurance guy, see what sort of liability waiver you should pick up, I mean if you had Woody’s close for the night for a private event would you be liable for underage drinking or drugs being taken?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “This is one thing I do not miss about owning Babylon. If I do buy it again, I’m spreading ownership over multiple investors or shell companies. There’s too much risk in venues.”

“Think you can get Dave to attend?” Justin asked.

Brian smirked and said, “I did before.”

 


	51. Don't get strung out by the way I look.

 

 

After Margret’s inspection and Mason sitting down with Vic and Deb, Hunter was moved into Michael’s old room on Tuesday. All his stuff, which was a lot considering the girls had only acquired him with the clothes on his back, was moved in with him. Including a PS2 which Justin was hoping he didn’t pay for. Due to the amount of medical test, psych tests and interviews Hunter was scheduled for and the amount school he missed, ‘Everybody’s Child’ was paying a tutor to visit once a week and make sure he was on track with his self-study for the placement testing. At least two of the girls visited every night since he’d been placed on Tuesday. Given the possessive nature all the girls had over Hunter, Justin was dreading what would happen when Daphne and Debbie eventually clashed. It was kind of inevitable but Daphne was being kept busy with the non-profit and getting the website and bank account up and running. She had to run to the bank after school almost every day since they were waiting for checks to be printed and needed bank checks to pay the tutor service and Debbie and now Mason. TKVC may have seeded the pot but the links online and annual calendar of events showing various future fundraisers had started a trickle of donations. They were even considering radio spots in the morning drive time.

“Can we sue?” Daphne greeted Justin on Friday morning the second that he walked into the school.

Justin said, “Good morning to you, Fraulein Righteous Fury. Who are we suing and why?”

“Mr. Hunt,” Daphne said, “he’s shutting us down, Justin. He’s a lying liar who lies and he’s shutting us down.” As they approached their window ledge the girls swamped him all complaining how unfair it was, even Paul and Mike were there. Niles approached with Mr. Omler, apparently having gone to let him know the news.

“Detail’s Daph,” Justin said, “What did he lie about?”

Daphne huffed out a sigh and said, “He said the board disallowed the Straight Gay Alliance, but it was never discussed, my mom went to the meeting for me. They covered a bunch of budget stuff; they talked about the athletics department traveling and title nine complaints and if it would affect them due to being a private school but nothing about us, not even in the new business section of the meeting. So this morning, when I went to check our cubby in the student organizations slots there was a note requesting that as the president I see him. He said the board made the decision. I ask if the board was in a habit of holding secret meeting since the topic wasn’t covered in last night’s meeting. You are not going to believe what he said to me. He compared us to white supremacists!”

“Deep breath,” Justin said, taking one himself and slowly releasing it. “Okay, everybody calm down. I’m going to assume the white principle of the private school didn’t look at the tiny black girl and suggest she was a white supremacist. What exactly did he say Daph?”

“He said, ‘suppose I gave you permissions to organize your club, and another student wanted to start a club for white supremacists, should I allow that, too?’” Daphne said in a snotty voice.

Justin asked, “Did you say yes?”

“Justin!” she said.

Justin said, “By the school charter if eight or more students want to have a club for white supremacists and there is a facility adviser that will sponsor them then they should be allowed to have it. And if Mr. Hunt finds approving such things beyond his comfort zone that is when he should take it to the board.”

“He has a point,” Sep said, “and I have an idea.”

“Is anyone else terrified?” Niles asked.

Justin said, “I am tentatively willing to listen to your idea, as long as it doesn’t involve chaining myself to anything.”

“We’re, all of us, the club, we have our faculty advisor; we all go now to the administrative office. We don’t talk in private but in front of all the staff. We tell Hunt we are willing to let him have his white supremacists if he lets us continue to have our gay straight alliance. When he says that wasn’t his point, we point out that we don’t want to call Mr. and Mrs. Chanders and tell them he used that as an example to scare off their tiny, black daughter,” Sep said.

“Okay, I’ll take that from Justin but not you.” Daphne said, “I am not tiny. I am normal height, you are a giant.”

Justin sighed, “I don’t think blackmail, sorry Daph, is the answer.

“Well it’ll give him a chance to back down before we get our parents involved or, didn’t you say you’re were having that law firm get the board members names and contact numbers just in case,” Niles said.

Justin shook his head and said, “no way, that is if someone is injured or violence breaks out, we don’t call them to whine about our club.” Justin started to follow Sep and Daphne who were already heading to the offices in ready for a fight. “Mike, you want to bail so he doesn’t think your part of this train wreck?”

“And miss all the fun?” he said, bumping Paul’s shoulder with his.

Paul put an arm around Tracy while Monica and Brittney all but dragged Niles. Mr. Omler said, “You all seem pretty committed, being that you haven’t had any meetings.”

Justin tried not to look too guilty but said, “We just made it official this semester, because of the requirements of the school charter, but we’ve been discussing how dangerous the atmosphere is in this school all year at lunch and on our own time. This place is a powder keg, Mr. Omler. Just putting your name out as our sponsor, even if, or maybe certainly if, we get shut down, when some tragedy occurs you are going to be looked at as the spokesman to verify that someone tried to stop it and that the administration actively prevented anyone from highlighting the dangers. Maybe the school is a microcosm of Pittsburgh, reflecting the attitude of Police Chief Stockwell. God knows the message he sends is ‘if you want to kill someone come to Pittsburgh, as long as they’re queer or transgender we won’t even investigate’. But people are paying St. James exorbitant tuitions and assuming that their kids are safe and Mr. Hunt is sending the message that as long as it’s the queer kids, or the perceived to be queer kids, violence is not only tolerated its encouraged.”

“Well if, September’s plan doesn’t work, I’ll appeal his decision at the next board meeting for you kids,” Mr. Omler said.

“You sure you want to stick your neck out?” Justin asked, “you have to work here, even after we’re all gone.”

“Change has to start somewhere, you have valid points. I don’t tolerate that behavior in my classes, but I know it happens, everyone knows it happens,” Mr. Omler said, “and I don’t want to be the one who says after that fact that there was nothing I could have done if someone gets hurt.”

+

Lindsay seemed to liked Marie; she was an older woman who oversaw the Greater Pittsburgh Region for the au pair company. Lindsay had told Brian that Marie had been thrilled when she and Mel approached with a request for a male au pair. Apparently many people were gender biased in concern to child care. Marie had a male who was perfect he had been attending school here and his family who he’d been with had relocated. They had had to wait for him to help the family move but since they had requested right after Christmas, he was able to stay enrolled.

Kalti was from Sydney, Australia, an Aboriginal or at least partly, twenty two, slightly taller than Justin and for the life of him Brian couldn’t imagine why this kid had ended up working as an au pair in Pittsburgh. The culture shock alone in moving from Sydney to Pittsburgh would be like moving essentially from Manhattan to the Hazelhurst, Mississippi. The munchers loved his accent and he had an easy going nature that bode well for them all getting long. He told them to call him Kal. Although he was in school, given the kind of stipends they were paid Brian figured au pairs mostly did it for the travel experience so Kalti got gyped by being assigned to Pittsburgh.

Kal arrived at the munchers’ house with a duffle bag and a laptop. He already had a year in at Point Park College and would be all set once the girls upgraded their DSL connection. In the long run, using DSL would be cheaper than long distance calls home, especially if they continued to have au pair in while Gus and in the future JR were little.

Brian wasn’t even sure why he’d been summoned for the grand unveiling of the houseboy or whatever they were calling him. Brian was lounging in the front parlor with Gus while the muncher showed the new boy and Marie up to his room. Possibly he needed to be there so the kid would know he was one of the parents and it would be safe to leave Gus with him.

His phone rang and it said Justin so he took the call.

“So, Daphne is on the warpath, she has to wait until the next board meeting and since they only meet on the third Thursday of the month she has nowhere to vent her spleen. I don’t suppose you know of any small countries that need to be invaded,” Justin said by way of greeting.

Brian smiled and said, “You have the weirdest way of starting phone sex.”

Justin laughed and said, “Sorry. The girls have been bitching all day, they kept me late. By the time I got home I expected you to be here. Where are you?”

“At the munchers, the houseboy started, Australian, very mellow, possibly the result of chemical enhancements, but if I got sent from Sydney to Pittsburgh I’d need a lot of weed too,” Brian said.

Justin said, “That’s it? Give the details, straight? Gay? Doable?”

“What did you say you were wearing?” Brian said.

Justin snorted and said, “My school uniform. Well I’m tossing that as we speak. What are we doing tonight?”

“Whatever you want, listen I found out I have to go to Chicago on Monday, I should be home by Wednesday; I’d suggest you cut, but we’re going to Phoenix next month and I’ll be working the whole time so it wouldn’t be much fun anyway.” Brian said.

Justin said, “No, that’s okay. I’ll get some work done at the studio, maybe even sleep out there, it’s closer to school and…”

“Say it. You’ll miss me,” Brian said

Justin sighed and said, “I always miss you; you vain smug bastard.”

“What’s Ms. Chanders so pissed about?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “True to form Hunt tried to say the board denied the Gay Straight Alliance, I can’t believe he used the same white supremacists argument he used with me and mom. I mean we’re a little Aryan looking but to do that with Daph, it’s a wonder she didn’t hit him with her shoe. We all showed up with our faculty sponsor, taking exception to it and got put on next month’s meeting. We’re going to graduate before it gets sanctioned and I don’t know how they’ll keep it going with the bulk of our membership is graduating but the girls are vengeful and determined.”

“And you have nothing to do with it,” Brian drawled, and added. “I hear them clomping down now; I should be home soon, later.”

“Later,” Justin said and ended the call.

Marie seemed happy with the set up and left Kal to get acquainted with them. It felt to Brian like Mel and Lindsay were showing him off like a prize stud; see this is the homosexual who sired our baby. But things between them seemed better than the last time Gus was this age. Maybe taking him now and again so they could get laid or go out was helping.

+

The buzzer rang, so Justin knew it wasn’t Brian and he hadn’t ordered anything so he hit the intercom and asked, “yes?”

“Brian?” Michael’s voice asked.

Justin looked down; he had on the gray yoga pants and a long-sleeved blue hoodie. Well, Michael was hardly fashion conscious. Justin hit the door release at the same time he said, “No, Justin.”

As he was rolling back the door Justin reviewed what they had on hand in the way of food, because all the dog training books said you should positively reinforce good behavior and Michael had rang the buzzer instead of barging in.

“Where’s Brian,” was Michael’s greeting but Justin felt it was baby steps in the right direction so pulled out one of his secret stash of Ghirardelli chocolate bars.

Justin offered some to Michael and said, “He’s at Mel and Lindz’ meeting the new au pair. He should be home soon. What’s up?”

“I kind of needed to talk to Brian,” Michael said.

Justin crossed to the office area and pulled out a binder. He asked, “Will you be staying for dinner? I haven’t decided what to order so if you have a preference.” The front part ring part of the binder had menus from the restaurants that delivery area they were in, after a divider tab there were menus that offered takeout but didn’t deliver. The front pocket had scraps of paper and receipts with names and numbers on them which had been given to either Brian or him and the back pocket had a printed list of names and numbers of people they sometimes invited over. As he brought it back to the island where Michael sat, Justin kept menus covering the pockets and suggested, “Thai? Indian? Chinese? I can run out and pick up Suishi or Greek. Or would you rather go out? HD told me about ‘Sweet Basil’ in Lawrenceville, its Thai and Philippine, I’ve never had that would you like to try it?”

Michael absently looked at the binder and asked, “You guys eat out a lot don’t you?”

“With school and work there really isn’t time to cook, despite my New Year’s resolution to take more control of our diets. It was easy to shop and cook over the break but once I was back to school no matter how much I intended to keep a healthier diet, we just end up going out or ordering in,” Justin said.

Michael said, “Mom was talking about something on QVC some sort of meal program where they ship your food prepackaged to you, but I think it’s for weight loss.”

“Well if it doesn’t taste good, Brian won’t eat it. Notice our freezer has booze and ice. He doesn’t even get microwaveable meals for lunch. Besides the last thing he needs is to lose weight,” Justin said. “Can I get you a drink? I have a Riesling chilled or a ‘Dortmunder Gold Lager,’ Brian’s doing a campaign for Great Lakes Brewing Company and they sent him a couple cases.”

Michael said, “Yeah, I’ll try one.”

Justin pulled a frosted glass from the freezer, tilted it and slowly emptied the bottle into it, bringing it upright as it filled. He opened a can of wasabi peas and poured some into a small bowl and set it on the counter. He was beginning to feel like Michael bartender. Justin didn’t expect him to open up about what he wanted to see Brian about but he could make an effort to make small talk.

“I saw Tracey on Monday, she sounds like she likes Chris,” Justin said, “You should invite her to come see Emmett preform,”

“She’s a girl, well woman,” Michael said.

“She’s your friend, she’d probably get a kick out of it, and if she didn’t want to drag Chris, to well a drag show, she could have Susan come with her,” Justin said.

“Who’s Susan,” Michael asked.

“Her roommate,” Justin turned from where he was checking to see if they had any other snacks, since Michael had given the peas a rather dubious look, “Jesus Michael, what do you talk about with her. Just you?”

“And work,” Michael said, “we’re not that good of friends.”

“Why not?” Justin said, and at Michael’s puzzled look he added, “You spend almost forty hours with her every week. That’s over half your waking hours most days. Sure you don’t have the history with her you have with Brian but that’s how you make friends. You spend time together, you talk to them; you listen to them; you discover common ground. Yeah, she’ll never know what it’s like to be a gay man, but you’ll never know what it’s like to be a straight woman. That doesn’t mean you can’t commiserate over the injustices the world deals both gay men and straight women, nor does it mean you can’t benefit from each other’s points of view. How many friends do you have that aren’t gay men? And your mom doesn’t count.”

Michael looked frustrated and said, “look you’re a kid you don-”

“Just so you know I already told your mom, bringing up my age as a rebuttal is tantamount to conceding defeat,” Justin said.

Michael said, “Brian doesn’t like straight people.”

“Chris DeLuca, Tracey Grabowski, Albert Kaufmann, Todd Kaufmann, Marty Ryder, Cynthia Moore, Daphne Chanders, Frank Payne, Bob Horvath, September Dae, Tracy Payne, Monica Horvath, Brittney Poppins, Niles Anderson, Lena Orr; in case you’re wondering, these are all straight people, not related to me, who Brian has willingly spent time with outside of work, and he didn’t even develop a rash,” Justin said.

Michael said, “When you’re my age you’ll realize it’s not that easy to just make new friends.”

“You’re right, not when you’re trudging through the same well-worn day-to-day path from your apartment to the diner to work to Woody’s to Babylon, and back to your apartment,” Justin said. “You only met David when you stepped outside of your daily routine. So take a chance, step outside it again. Take a class or join a club or just do something you’ve never tried before. You like comic’s right? Well take a writing class or go online and instead of porn or looking to hook up for sex, join a discussion on character development or analysis the plot of whatever you follow. There are people out there who would be impressed by your being able to site the issue and date that various milestones occurred in ‘Captain Astro’.”

Michael sighed and drank his beer and said, “I don’t actually know what I want.”

“Well you know what you don’t want,” Justin said. “If you just wanted to get laid, you’d head for the baths or the backroom. You want someone who you enjoy spending time with when you’re not getting off. Tracey can relate to that, because finding that usually involves spending time with lots of people who don’t fit the bill and putting yourself back out there time and again.”

Michael said, “You know this from your vast experience.”

“We can’t all have Brian Kinney placed in our path like manna from heaven.” Justin said with a smirk.

The door to the loft rolled open and Justin filled a second iced glass with beer and handed it to Brian after he set his briefcase near the desk.

“I’m still holding out for the naked martini,” Brian said, “What’s up, Mikey?”

Justin snorted and said, “The day I do that will be the day you show up with a client.”

“Hey Brian, I kind of wanted to talk,” Michael said, cutting his eyes toward Justin.

Justin sighed and said, “Why don’t we decide what you want for dinner and I can give you boys some privacy while I run out and pick it up?”

Brian changed while they decided where to get dinner from, ‘Sweet Basil la Filipiniana’, and what to order. Justin called it in and swapped out his yoga pants for a pair of jeans, while he was pulling his boots on Brian tossed him the keys to the Jeep.

“You’re letting him drive your car?” Michael asked.

Brian finished his beer and took out two more and said, “Really? You thought he’d take the bus to go get us food?”

Justin rolled his eyes and kissed Brian and as he left said, “have good girl-talk.”

He had way too much time to kill before the order had to be picked up given Lawrenceville was only a couple miles down Butler. He stopped on the little side street where HD was renoing his building and knocked on the board covering the doorway before poking his head in. They were rarely on the first floor and there was no buzzer hooked up. The fact it wasn’t locked up meant that someone was here. He started up the stairs calling, “Hello, anyone home?” because the last thing he wanted was one of the scary guys who pulled buildings apart with their hands thinking he was there to steal stuff. The first floor looked all but finished. It would need a security door installed and judging by the bulky item wrapped in Styrofoam and plastic it may be there already. There was a heavy door off the small lobby that led to a freight elevator and parking.

Emmett had mentioned that HD was making noises about them living together. Emmett was all for the idea, but said the apartment was in his name and he worried about leaving Michael alone. Justin was thinking that adding a new roommate might be the only way to get Michael to make a new friend. He thought he should ask Emmett how long it took Michael to warm up to Ted and him since he seemed so reluctant to make new friends who weren’t Brian. Of course Emmett was not the rule, because really who could resist Emmett?

“Hey Justin,” Wade called from the second floor.

Justin tentatively pushed past the hanging sheets of plastic. This floor was gutted, exposed to the bricks. The original windows were still in although the replacements were stationed around the room by them waiting to be swapped out. Justin smiled and said, “Hi, Wade. I was on my way to pick up dinner and though I’d stop in and take a peek. Em said there was a unit move-in ready.”

“The boss’ definition of move in ready and the rest of the worlds don’t always line up, but I can show you around if you want,” Wade said.

Justin smiled and said, “If it’s no trouble, I don’t want to take you from your work.” Justin had assumed Wade was gay, he worked security at Babylon and knew HD, but sometimes he wasn’t sure. Wade had never so much as checked him out and that just wasn’t like a gay man, even if Justin wasn’t his type. Wade was about Brian’s height with straight black hair, long in the front, broad shoulders, he usually needed a shave and was pretty fit, but not to the point Justin thought steroids were involved.

The second floor was divided into two lofts, each about half again the size of Brian’s. Wade pointed out where the kitchen and bath hook ups were and a rough outline of where the sleeping areas would be. The third floor had one loft Brian’s size and one that was double that. The larger loft was still waiting for the kitchen and bath to be installed but there were two sleeping rooms, empty but with large closets and tracks on two sides for sliding doors. The fourth floor was much the same lay out as the second, but had the windows in and the walls finished in places.

The fifth floor, the top floor, was all one loft, finished, but unfurnished. There was a large walk in closet just inside the entrance and a matching sliding door on the other side that opened to reveal a tasteful powder room. Justin could defiantly see Emmett’s hand in some of the finishes. The practical slate tile around the entrance was in a pink hue that looked great next to the dark cherry stain on the hardwood flooring that was everywhere but the entrance and kitchen area. The walls, what weren’t brick, were the same pale yellow as had been on Lindsay and Mel’s attic but the kitchen area had vivid pink, orange and yellow glass tiles on all exposed area of the walls. The cabinets going up to the twelve foot ceilings were the same dark cherry stain as the floor, with long brushed nickel pulls. The appliances were stainless steel and countertops a dark granite. There as more counter top and storage, enough to make Justin envious, but he knew that this had been designed for Emmett. For all its bright color and splashes of pink and yellow the place had a very masculine feel to it.

The bathroom was elevated and once he looked in he could see why. Under the window was a large sunken tub with jets. The far wall of the bathroom was mirror; with two square sinks set in a long vanity with lots of drawers and storage. There was the wall opposite the tub was taken up by a shower and the toilet was against the wall the door slide open on. None of the doors, not the powder room, the bathroom to the bedroom or the closets or the bedrooms two large side panels swung open they all slid to the side. There was a storage area behind the bedroom Justin would have missed if Wade hadn’t pointed it out.

“This is awesome, it looks move in ready to me,” Justin said.

Wade snorted and said, “Except the overhead lights haven’t been installed, or picked out for all I know. There’s no door, you did notice the gaping hole we walked in though right? The building needs an entrance door on the first floor, as well as an intercom and security lock.”

“Those are just details, this is perfect,” Justin said.

“That what I said,” HD said.

Justin turned the entrance and HD was loaded down with boxes of what looked like track lighting and Emmett had a couple shopping bags in each hand which he placed on the floor before sweeping over to hug Justin. “Sweetie,” Emmett said, “I wanted to do a big reveal at the grand opening.”

“Sorry, Em,” Justin said, “you made it sound too good, I just had to peek. I love the pink slate, it’s a bold choice but it really softens the dark wood of the floor, and that backsplash is so you.”

“You want a beer,” HD asked as he opened the fridge and handed one to Wade.

Justin said, “No thanks, I’m supposed to be picking up dinner. Michael stopped by and had to see Brian alone – girl talk or something. I swear sometimes he’s twelve.”

“You and Brian getting together is a big adjustment for Michael,” Emmett said. “But I’m glad you stopped by, I’m a nervous wreck about tomorrow.”

“Why,” Justin asked, “Em, those stills we shot, you look better than most females done up as torch singers. Sep said she heard you rehearsing and loves your voice. Is she really acting as your lady’s maid tomorrow?”

“Her and her little friend Tracy, who actually offered to do my make-up, as if I need help with that,” Emmett said.

Justin laughed and said, “If you want theatric make up as opposed to up-close club style make up don’t turn her down. At Halloween, she did the four of us up as zombies and we hit the Haunted Hills Hayride out at North Versailles and Phantom Fright Night at Kennywood, seriously we looked way better than the people working there, scared the crap out of some of the other customers. She’s going to be a theater major at CMU.”

Justin’s phone rang and he glanced at the number and said, “Sorry, excuse me it’s the restaurant. Hello? Yes. Yes, I’m on my way. Ten minutes. Yes. Thank you.” He looked at Em and said, “you’re going to be fabulous tomorrow. Listen, I know you’re working with Brian on Michael’s birthday but when you have time, let’s get together I had an idea for a fundraiser and I could really use your input.”

“Okay, that’s not cryptic at all. I’ll see you tomorrow right?” Emmett asked.

Justin said, “I wouldn’t miss it. I better go pick up dinner now. HD this place is awesome really. Good seeing you Wade. Bye guys.”

+

Brian took back the joint and inhaled deeply. Mikey’s super-secret bitch session had basically boiled down to life was changing and he didn’t like change. Whatever it was Justin had said to Michael while keeping him company before Brian got home apparently had Mikey’s panties in a bunch.

“You know Debbie stopped by to see me,” Brian said, lolling his head toward Michael as they sat on the couch. Their feet were on the coffee table to either side of the ice bucket.

Michael looked over in shock, “Here?”

“Yeah, I’m not supposed to tell you so don’t rat me out, okay?” Brian said and inhaled deeply before passing the joint.

“Yeah, sure,” Michael took back the joint and asked, “what about?”

While Michael inhaled, realized it had gone out and relit it, Brian said, “She blames me for you and Dave splitting up. She thinks I’m a bad influence. That you need to grow up and settle down, stop clubbing and get serious and that as long as I’m in your life you’ll never become the happy housewife you deserve to be.”

“What the fuck?” Michael said relighting the joint again and giving up and putting it in the ashtray.

Brian sighed and started to roll another joint before he said, “I don’t know man, there were illusions to that first time we got drunk and she caught us, how I’m a bad seed and have always held you back. I didn’t get the whole thing because Justin was here and you know how he gets if he thinks someone is dissing me. He basically said she should take her concerns about you, to you, that you were a grown up and didn’t need looking after. He wasn’t very nice about it but you gotta understand, Justin is pretty fed up with everyone butting in his life because of his age and feels really strongly about people being able to make their own choices and suffer the consequences of their actions. And on the upside he didn’t actually throw any food at her.”

Brian lit the new joint and took a deep toke before passing it to Michael. Michael, who looked pretty stoned already said, “Why would he throw food?”

“It was there?” Brian said, letting out as little smoke as possible, holding it in until forced to breath and then finishing his beer. Once Justin left they’d moved from the WASPy glasses and started drinking from bottles. Brian had filled the ice bucket and loaded it with six cold bottles but as he opened the last one took another hit from the joint before passing it back to Michael and going to refill the bucket in the kitchen.

The loft door rolled open and Justin wrinkled his nose and said, “Well I know what you girls have been up to.”

Once Justin set down the food Brian pulled him into a hug and kissed him. As they were grinding against the counter Justin laughed and said, “Oh, its high Brian, I love high Brian he actually eats. Are you hungry little boy?”

“What do you have for me to eat, pretty boy,” Brian said as he started to unbutton Justin’s jeans.

“Pineapple shrimp fried rice, fish lumpia, pad thai, escabeche beef and chicken skews and I’m reasonably sure Michael doesn’t want a floor show with dinner,” Justin said.

“I have no idea what any of that is,” Michael said wandering over from the living room.

Brian pulled his attention away from Justin’s pants and got down some plates and started loading one he said, “its food, you’re hungry, come try it.”

“I don’t know,” he said peering in the containers as he handed the joint to Justin who took a hit.

Brian said, “Stop looking so nervous, you were the same way the first time you had Thai and you lived.”

Justin took a second hit, because he really didn’t think either of them needed any more. But Brian snagged it from him so he started to put the empties into the glass recycling. He didn’t think he’d been gone that long but it looked like they had three each in addition to the one he’d poured them and he had no idea how much pot. Sometimes he thought Debbie had it wrong and Michael was the bad influence on Brian. Whichever it was they did seem to bring out each other’s inner teenager, not always a bad thing, because at that age Brian hadn’t had so many defenses in place, but he also hadn’t learned to hold his tongue.

They moved their plates and the remaining food to the coffee table in and sat on the floor. While they were eating Michael got a call from Emmett and then three-way’ed Ted in to see who was going out, it being Friday night. While Brian shared a lumpia with Justin, or rather shoved half into Justin’s mouth, Justin mumbled around it, “I guess I’m designated driver tonight?”

“Sorry,” Brian said, not looking sorry at all.

Justin licked the vinegar sauce from Brian’s lips and said, “Did you girls get everything sorted?”

“I don’t know, I tried to listen, but then we were kind of stoned and,” he trailed off and added, “maybe?”

“Emmett said you stopped by,” Michael said as he ended the call.

Justin said, “Yeah, well this isn’t fast food, it’s a sit down restaurant it takes time to prepare this to order so I had time to kill while you girls gossiped. Got any dirt that’s not top secret?”

“We weren’t gossiping, it was just stuff,” Michael said. “Did you like David?”

“I didn’t dislike David, we really didn’t have much in common, other than a love of cock, he’s like my Dad’s age,” Justin said, “Isn’t if you liked David more important. I mean you bitched about his friends, but you never said he made you feel young and stupid. David’s the one you spent time with, did you like what you did together – not the sex, do not tell me about the sex - but when you just hung out and stuff.”

Michael sighed and said, “We never really hung out. David’s a planner, he always had a list of things we could do. We went places and did things, which was new, nice, but he was always paying and I felt like I was…”

“Being rented for the evening?” Brian asked.

Justin slapped ineffectively at his thigh as Brian draped over him, stealing a chicken skewer. “You know, Michael, you don’t have to keep an accounting of every dollar spent. God knows Brian makes more than me. You can make dinner for him, instead of taking him out or plan an evening in, rent some of his favorite movies or share something you like, take him to a comic shop or even a convention.”

“Dave at Comic-Con,” Brian drawled, “Please film it, Mikey.”

“Hey, he has a kid. I bet he’d love the chance to by some crap that would make him the coolest dad ever,” Justin said.

Michael said, “It doesn’t matter now, we broke up.”

“He asked to move in before you were ready,” Justin said, “Its normal to want to take a step back if you were feeling pressured, but maybe you went too far in breaking it off completely, it sounds like you still want to spend time with him, just that you’re not ready to live together. There’s a lot of space between never seeing each other and living together.”

“You move in with Brian right after you met him,” Michael said.

Brian snickered and buried his face in Justin’s neck. Great, why was he the only one not stoned again? Justin said with as much dignity as he could muster, “I moved in with Brian when we were both ready for it. It’s not a universal number; you have to do what feels right for you.”

 


	52. Don't judge a book by its cover.

They ended up not going out Friday. All three of them got really stoned but since Justin was the only one not drinking as well, he had no hang over the next morning. Ted brought his new guy, some piano player he met at a singles’ mixer and they joined them and HD and Emmett at ‘Ritters’. Justin didn’t know if Brian was trying to keep him away from Debbie or if since their group was so large they wanted to go somewhere with more seating and bigger booths.

Justin despite or perhaps because of not being hung over was starving. The talk was mostly centered on the competition. Ted’s guy Robert had never been to Babylon and seemed kind of wary of them all. Okay they were a little loud but they’d jacked up on coffee before coming and Emmett was nervous so Justin was trying to distract him. Since there was no place in Pittsburgh currently running Rocky Horror he was pitching the idea to Emmett that they could use it as a fundraiser, maybe look into a really large venue such as one of the dance clubs with a big screen or if they waited until the weather was better an outdoor venue.

Between talking to Em and texting the girls, minus Daph who was away for the weekend Justin lost most of his cheese fries to Brian, who had made a face when he ordered a cheeseburger and fries for breakfast. “How long have you all known each other?” Robert asked.

Justin added, “I would love to hear how you all met, beside Michael and Brian who are practically family.”

“I think Mel and Lindz recommended Ted when I was looking for an accountant, what five, six years ago,” Brian said.

Brian then exchanging a weird look with Em and Justin knew they were planning to lie about how they met. Justin briefly tried to picture Emmett and Brian hooking up and it simply would not compute in his brain. Esthetically it would be really hot, but the way they acted with the snipping and teasing it seemed almost as incestuous as Michael and Brian. Justin couldn’t believe that after all these years he’d never heard the story of how they met.

Emmett said, “Well Michael and I have roomed together for about five years, it was inevitable I’d cross paths with Brian and Teddy.” Emmett was lying. Justin wanted to drag Brian off to get the real story but it would have to wait.

A round of remember whens started. They avoided the once that had Ted in a coma, or former hookups for those sitting next to a current hookup but there were some recounting of former Pride events and how they met mutual acquaintances like Lindsay or Mel for the first time some of which Justin had never heard.

It was after one when their brunch ended and Michael got a ride home with Emmett and HD. They all made plans to meet to attend the contest later that night. As Brian pulled out to head home Justin said, “You had sex with Emmett. How did I never hear about this? Why would not tell me this?”

“Have I taught you nothing about gay etiquette? You don’t let on about stuff like that. Remember how weird Michael got when he found out I had Ben before him? Do you really think I want really tall guy looking at me like I have designs on Aunty Em?” Brian said.

Justin made a dismissive noise and said, “If you had designs on him you’d have him. Are you going to share; was it hot, when’d it happen; was it before he roomed with Michael or after?”

Brian made a few more grumbly noises and shot an exasperated look at Justin. He said, “You really get off on the weirdest things.”

Justin just grinned and said, “Tell me. Please?”

“It was before Michael and he were rooming together. I saw him at Woody’s, he wasn’t dressed as eye blinding as normal, just jeans and an ‘ole Miss Rebels’ tee shirt. We went into the bathroom for a hard fast fuck and that was it,” Brian said.

Justin grinned, “I bet you looked hot together. So was it awkward when he moved in with Michael. Does Michael know?”

“No. Michael does not know, and we’re going to keep it that way. Emmett’s cool but Michael would have a queen out you know that,” Brian said, pulling up in front of the loft.

Justin sighed, “I won’t torment Michael. So you were never tempted to go back for seconds?”

“We are not adding Em and really tall guy to our take out list,” Brian said, “that would just be too out there even for me.”

The rest of the day was spent lazing about and fucking. They napped and were barely at Woody’s in time to head over to Babylon with Michael and Ted. The dance floor was limited as the stage had been extended and Michael, Ted and Ted’s date saved some prime viewing spots by the bar while Justin and Brian hit the dance floor

Later once the show started, Justin called, “Hey Vic,” and Vic came over to where he and Brian were leaning against the bar.

Vic asked, “I haven’t missed him have I?

“Em? No, they did an intro of the judges and a speal about where the proceeds for tonight are benefiting along with the prize details and there’s only been one other performer on so far,” Brian said.

Justin added, “Chandelier? She does kind of a Marilyn theme and lip syncs.”

HD who had been chatting with one of the security guys wandered over and greeted Vic. Ted strolled over and introduced Vic to Robert, just before the next performer came on. There was a short Cher; an uncannily arcuate Dolly and a fat Liza, but the rest seemed to be going for more original looks. Out of ten contestants only two beside Emmett would be actually singing and judging by the first one who tried to do a falsetto Em had a good shot.

Justin knew that right that moment September and Tracy were back stage acting as dressers, helping with makeup and making sure every bead and spangle was arranged perfectly. Given Tracy’s love of the theater and how well she’d made all of them into zombies at Halloween it was almost an unfair advantage to the other competitors. Sep had drafted Tracy mostly for her expertize but also now that Trace didn’t have a teenager hidden in her pool house she had too much time on her hands. And well, Babylon during a drag competition was one place Paul wouldn’t tag along. Not that Sep wasn’t happy for Tracy now that she’d found a way around the dating restriction; but Paul was seriously skewering the dynamic of their longtime friendship.

Justin got four bottles of water and took them to the backstage area. Fortunately security knew him and that he was one of Emmett’s friends. The current performer was lip-syncing to Peggy Lee’s ‘Fever’ which had been the song Emmett was going to do. Emmett was currently breathing into a paper bag. Justin took a moment to wonder who actually had paper bags anymore.

“It’s going to be okay, you’re better than him. It will just make him look that much worse,” September said, keeping up a steady litany of reassurances but shooting puppy eyes at Justin as he set down the bottles of water.

Tracy wasn’t as subtle when she grabbed him by the bicep and hissed, “Fix it.”

“You’re ready for this Em. You rehearsed three different songs for just such an occurrence,” Justin said.

“Okay,” Emmett said, lowering the paper bag. He opened one of the bottles and took a sip. Tracy jumped in started fussing with his make-up. Emmett looked amazing.

“What are the songs you have ready besides ‘Fever,’” Justin asked.

“Well, we nixed ‘Why Don’t You Do Right’ because it was just too Jessica Rabbit, and ‘Black Coffee’ while quintessentially Peggy Lee, really doesn’t play to the club crowd or a competition. So I went with ‘Fever’, ‘I Like Men’ and ‘He’s a Tramp’. But Fever is the best for competitions. It’s well known, it’s up and sexy,” he said.

“Okay, you can still do ‘Fever’ if you want, you got looks on this guy and your voice is great,” Justin said.

“No. If I had gone before him it would sell, but if I show him up using the same song,” Emmett said, “I just don’t think that would play favorable to the judges.”

“It would to Godiva,” Sep said.

Emmett said, “I want to win fairly or not at all.”

“I dare you to dedicate ‘He’s a Tramp’ to Brian,” Justin said.

Emmett laughed and almost mussed his make up when he lifted a hand to cover his mouth but stopped himself. He said, “That song is more recognizable than ‘I Like Men’ and should play better to both the judges and the crowd.”

Once things were settled and Emmett took the stage, Justin made his way out front to watch with the crowd. There would only be one more contestant after Emmett. Em bantered with the audience; he didn’t dedicate the song to Brian but did mention it was from Michael’s favorite movie.

Michael and Debbie had joined Brian and Vic at their vantage point and Justin figured Mon and Brittany must have been on Hunter duty since he knew Daphne was away this weekend at John Hopkins. She had assumed she would have to go in state for premed but with her SATs and the way her grades had gone her parents had suggested she apply just to see if she could get in. They were crunching numbers but given that it was Daphne’s top choice for medical school and she had been short listed they were taking a campus visit and seeing if she qualified for any merit based assistance.

Justin slipped in and Brian wrapped his arms around him as he leaned back against him. Emmett was on stage showing off his amazing fiery gown and peeking one cat eye out from the fall of platinum blonde hair of his wig while he sang, “You can never tell when he'll show up He gives you plenty of trouble I guess he's just a no 'count pup But I wish that he were double He's a tramp, he's a rover And there's nothing more to say If he's a tramp, he's a good one And I wish that I could travel his way”

Justin leaned back and said into Brian’s ear, “that’s your theme song stud.”

“Really?” Brian said, “How are the girls.”

“Ecstatic, they finally found a man who will let them paint his toenails,” Justin said.

The last performer lip-synced to Judy Garland singing ‘I Like Men’ so it was just as well that Em picked the song he did. HD slipped backstage to apparently keep Em from spontaneously combusting while the judges deliberated. Even though the club had brought the music back up and the lights were strobing and glitter was falling and Justin was too nervous to dance. Brian flat out laughed at him and had continued laughing when September, clutching Tracy’s hand eeled threw the crowd of hot dancing men came up to Justin and said, “Do something she’s worse than when we were waiting for SAT scores.”

Justin hugged Tracy and said, “He’s going to win. He was the best.”

“God this place is like the playboy mansion in reverser; Trace look at that guy he’s so hot,” Sep said and for once she wasn’t checking out Brian.

Tracy sighed, looked up at Justin and rolled her eyes before saying, “I think the fact he’s in a gay dance club kind of implies he not interested Sep.”

“Statistically some of these guys must be bisexual,” Sep said.

Justin kissed Tracy on the top of the head and said, “That’s why she’s in my AP English and not AP Calc.”

Finally about a half hour after the last performer they brought the spotlight back up on stage and the performers out like some demented Miss America pageant. Em was almost at center stage and HD was had rejoined them, corralling September from chatting up strange gay men.

By the time Godiva announced the two runners up and then third place it was almost a shoe in for Em as it had contained the two who had sung as opposed to lip-synching. Second place was Emmett’s only real competition the Dolly impersonator. Tracy had remembered to bring Justin’s digital camera from her bags in the back and he had wormed his way close to the stage to get some shots. When Emmett was announced the winner, not only their section of the audience went wild. Em had a lot of friends and was well known from Torso and the places he frequented around the neighborhood. Emmett accepted a colorful bouquet that looked to be made of birds of paradise, lilies and sunflowers along with a Lucite award shaped like flame on a heavy base to commemorate the event. There was no acceptance speech but Emmett was throwing kisses and tearing up like a professional pageant queen.

Justin got some great shots and by the time he made his way back to Brian, Tracy had cornered Ted and seemed to be trying to talk him into letting her do his makeup. She insisted he had the eyes to do a perfect Garbo. Justin thought about rescuing him but Ted was a big boy so he sidled up to Brian and kissed his way along his jawline before murmuring in his ear, “my friends and your friends in the same room, kind of terrifying.”

Brian smirked and said, “Only for Ted.”

 

 


	53. I'm not much of a man by the light of day

 

“Okay, Mr. Omler is going to support us but we have to all be there. According to Roberts Rules of Order we will have a chance to speak before the matter is voted on,” Daphne said plonking her tray down next to his sketch pad. They were now two tables of the courtyard. Niles, Paul and Mike were all joining them fairly regularly.

Justin said, “You will have a chance to speak Madam President.” The sketch he was working on was a plan for a painting. It was based on the stained glass windows HD had put in and Justin was hoping to have it done before he and Em got around to having any sort of housewarming.

“It doesn’t have to be me,” Daphne said. “It could be Mr. Omler or it could be you, you know because-”

Justin drawled over her, “I’m gay? You’re our leader Daph, you have organized this from the start. Yes I feel very strongly that the atmosphere at St. James is toxic and dangerous. But all I’ve done is bitch about it. You organized the group; you jumped through all the hoops to get it started and you fought back when Mr. Hunt tried to submarine it without due process. This is your baby. I’ll be there cheering you on but you are in charge.”

The talk around there tables moved from what they thought Daphne should say to if they could count on their parents being there and if it would be worth a calling campaign to get more people there. That would be risky because making more parents aware of what was going on could back fire if most of them were the same sort of people as Mr. Hunt. And September’s frustration that all her ideas for membership drives had to be put off until after the next board meeting. She was trying to push some sort of stealth-recruitment activities but Niles, thankfully because Justin was tired of being the lone voice of reason, shot her down saying Hunt would mostly use any disobedience to his edict as a reason to disband the club.

Given that it was the last Friday in January and the next meeting of the board would be the third Thursday of February the talk moved on to school and college plans. Tracy had booked a campus visit for both of them at CMU, without informing Justin, for the next day. Given that it was also the day Brian had Michael’s party scheduled for, Justin sent a fast text to see if he could be spared for a few hours from whatever Em had him booked in for preparations.

The news that Justin and Tracy were going on a visit the next day wasn’t just a surprise to Justin, Paul looked startled too. Justin seeing Paul’s look said, “By all means haul your ass out of bed and come with us. Why should I suffer alone?” Tracy remained oblivious that Paul sometimes was under the mistaken impression that Justin was after her virtue. Mike seemed to find the whole interplay highly entertaining and Daphne took it as a cue to start waxing longingly about John Hopkins.

Daphne loved Johns Hopkins. Daphne would never love a man the way she loved John Hopkins. She’d gone to medical school there last time and had often voiced regret about missing out on their undergraduate programs. This time, she was set on their Bio Engineering course of study but still up in the air on what her second major should be. Justin wasn’t sure what it was that went different this time, whether it was her involvement with the non-profit or that she had more friends or her grades and SAT scores were higher, but somehow the Chanders were able to give the go ahead to her attending there for undergrad.

Sep was the one in a quandary because she really didn’t know what she wanted to study and had been hoping for inspiration from one of them. She wasn’t an artist like Justin, and while she was willing to throw herself into whatever role Tracy was playing, really had no interest in acting, and pre-med was just a world of ‘no’. She had applied at University of Pennsylvania, in Philadelphia; Penn State, out in the middle of nowhere; University of Pittsburgh and Carnegie Mellon right in the heart of Pittsburgh and unfortunately been accepted at all of them.

+

As they approached the campus driving down Fifth, Justin asked Tracy, “Are we meeting Paul?”

“Paul’s going to Ohio State,” She said with most of her attention on the mirror in the visor as she glossed up her lips. She was dressed in sorority girl chic again, pink leggings, fluffy furry white boots and a pink plaid swing coat, with a white angora scarf and matching tam on her head.

Justin glanced at her as he pulled into the student parking and asked, “So we’re really going on a campus visit? To CMU? Trace we grew up here.”

“Not on campus,” Tracy said. “Besides, not all of us took summer classes here. You’re the one who says I have to be less crazy and actually meet people I haven’t known all my life. Well we’re starting here in the fall and today is when we start meeting people.”

Justin got out of the car, why he was driving her dad’s car he didn’t know. With Tracy it could be because the character she was playing today didn’t drive or because she wanted to be able to text and touch up her make up. He sighed, walked around the car and opened her door for her, because yeah she was just sitting there waiting for him to do it. How much of this was eccentricity and how much was just the world Tracy had grown up in he didn’t know but he wanted to get one thing straight and said, “Just so you know I’m not joining a sorority with you.”

She exited the car like paparazzi would be watching and adjusted her coat, tossed back her hair and tucked her hand, pink nails with rhinestones centered, into the crook of his arm and said, “Of course not. You’ll be our Sweetheart and we’ll sing to you.”

They went into the student affairs office and there were a couple groups, parents and students seated and standing. A pretty young Indian woman with a clip board greeted them, “I am Mari Tudor one of Carnegie Mellon’s student ambassadors. Are you here for the campus tour?”

“Nice to meet you Mari,” Tracy said, pulling out the role she’d used to sell cookies, “I’m Tracy Payne, I’ll be starting Theater Arts in the fall and this is Justin Taylor, Business and Graphic Arts. Yes, we’re here for the tour. Will you be conducting it?”

“I’ll be one of the guides, if everyone who registered shows up we’ll have four groups. We have refreshments in the conference room if you’d like some coffee or tea,” Mari said.

As Tracy started to grill Mari about how she became a student ambassador and what extracurricular activities she was involved in; Justin gave Mari a pained smile and ushered Tracy toward the coffee while pointing out that Mari had other people to check in.

The conference room in addition to having coffee and tea stations had trays of pastries and bagels and flavored cream cheese spreads. Guarding the food were three large boys in letterman jackets from assorted high school bonding over sports and how awesome being a jock was. Tracy rolled her eyes and started to make two cups of tea. Justin unbuttoned his car coat, and yes it was black Armani and no he had no idea how it had shown up on his side of the closet after one of Brian’s buying sprees. In response to his raised eyebrow Brian had grumbled, “You dress better than when you were seventeen, but not by fucking much.”

Next to the tall, scruffy high school boys he and Tracy looked like they were there for a photoshoot. Tracy flipped her hair and turned her back on the jocks that were checking her out. Given that she liked Paul who fit into that mold perfectly Justin just smirked at her. While they waited for their tea to seep, Justin asked, “Did you get to request the areas you want a tour of? I can’t imagine they drag everyone to look at the gym and playing fields.”

“I specified an interest in their performance venues and their housing,” She said. “You got a good overview of their art facilities last summer and I can’t imagine business classes being any different from school, just lectures and meetings in various rooms.”

Justin said, “You’re planning to live on campus?”

“Aren’t you?” Tracy asked as she disposed of the tea bags and added cream and sugar to hers and just sugar to Justin’s.

Taking the cup she handed him, Justin said, “No. Even if I didn’t have a lover, I wouldn’t want to live in a crowded dorm room with a stranger picked by a computer. I’d stay at my studio if I wasn’t with Brian.”

“Don’t you ever want you own space. I like your loft but it’s all there in the open, you can’t slam a door and be alone, if Brian’s home he’s right on top of you.” Tracy said.

Justin snickered, glanced toward the jocks and then said to Tracy, “That’s right where I like him.”

They were split into groups and apparently Tracy had informed them in no uncertain terms that Justin was touring with her. Given how overprotective Frank Payne was of his little girl this may have been a condition for her to be permitted to tour without her parents. At times Justin didn’t know if the Paynes were protecting Tracy from the world or the world from Tracy’s very unique vision.

Their group was mostly theater majors and one of the jocks. Apparently the rest of the theater majors were affecting the disaffected artsy stereotype. There was a lot of black, a lot of patchouli being smoked as they walked around from building to building and decided attempts to appear disinterested about everything. Tracy chattered away with Mari, who had lucked into being their guide despite being a business major herself pumping her for information on student activities, asking her which sorority she was in, rather than was she in one, and then pressing if the campus had an active Gay Straight Alliance.

Justin smiled serenely as Tracy remained firmly on his arm as she effectively dragged him though the tour. The rest of the theater majors were appalled by her peppy spirit and the jock, who gave distinctive Drew Boyd vibes, looked panicked as soon as she said the word gay.

The multimedia building was a huge warehouse soundstage looking very professional and way ahead of anything Justin had seen outside those few months in Hollywood. While the theater majors and Tracy were looking over the multimedia building Justin took a moment to grill Mari about the business program. She was currently working an internship at PNC, it was an eighteen month program and she’d be cycling through many of their different departments. Justin asked about the internship requirement as part of the degree program and mentioned that he and his partner had a venture capital company and if they had anything geared toward that. Mari looked skeptical as if young men made up fake companies to impress her all the time and recommended he discuss it with an academic advisor.

They concluded the tour in an auditorium where various members of the campus administration made speeches about sexual harassment and diversity tolerance. And members of student groups made pitches regarding getting involved in campus life and just what there was offered. Tracy pinched him and Justin turned his head and she whispered, “Pay attention this is for you. You can’t hang with all the old people just because you have Brian. You have to be here if you’re here. You have to join one group and once a week you have to do something on campus besides your classes.”

“You realize, you and I are not actually dating and you do not get to make rules for me,” Justin said.

She huffed and said, “You look out for me, because you’re my friend. I’m looking out for you Justin. You’re only seventeen once. That goes for all the other ages too. I’m going to make friends and so are you.”

Justin nearly bit his tongue bloody because there was no way he was snapping at her that he had been seventeen twice, thank you very much, and he hadn’t wanted to make friends either time. So instead he said what he’d said all those year ago, “I'm not antisocial, I just can't stand people.”

+

Other than Michael complaining that his mother’s home was invaded by teenagers because of Justin and setting a similar claim on Hunter’s room as he had when Justin lived there. The crossover from Justin’s school friends and the Liberty gang was not worth mentioning. Except for that time he and Brian stopped to drop off some documents for Hunter and caught Tracy and Sep learning some vintage disco steps from Vic and Deb as ‘I Will Survived’ blasted from Sep’s IPod parked in a portable speaker system. The less said about that the better. Sep naturally thought of Emmett as hers now that he was all but living with her cousin, and with her often came Tracy. Daphne was the only one who occasionally hung out at the loft with him and Brian, but she was so involved with their non-profit it was more as if they were taking business meetings than hanging out.

Hunter sporadically showed signs of his bold sarcastic self, the one Justin remembered from when Ben and Michael first found him. The girls tempered that as he was at an age when pretty older girls had an impact and well, they were all damn good at manipulation. So they made sure he went to therapy and he was rarely alone when school was out, his placement tests weren’t expected until after all the medical and legal issues were at least somewhat sorted.

Justin tried to touch base with him at least once a week. Unlike the girls Justin tried not to treat him like a puppy and occasionally sat in on meetings with Mason or Margret when Hunter okayed it. They’d never been close before, not only Hunter’s persistent pursuit of Brian, but at twenty, Justin hadn’t recognized his feelings of survivor’s guilt when dealing with Hunter. Justin due to the affluences of his family, incredible luck and the benevolence of Brian had avoided the horrific sexual awakening Hunter had endured. So many potential missteps could have had him on the streets, selling himself and catching The Virus. Prior to their restart after Brian’s funeral, Justin never considered himself religious however ‘there but for the Grace of God’ was hitting home pretty hard this time through.

Hunter had so far, dodged HIV, he showed clean for parasites when checked but did have a case of chlamydia and was treated. Watching Vic’s regime seemed to be bringing home to Hunter just what a close call it had been. Rita Montgomery had been arrested. Not only her but her current boyfriend and they were looking for her previous one. They had a warrant when they picked her up and found enough drugs and other illegal material that even if they couldn’t prove she coerced a minor into prostitution she would be doing time. Mason thought Hunter was a solid witness; he was articulate, and surprisingly frank about what he’d been through. It was likely, given his status as a minor, that the judge would interview him privately and his statement would be entered into record without him having the drama of accusing his mom from the bench.

+

That night Hunter was left home with Monica and Brittney and his PS2. Debbie, never having raised a straight kid was in for a rude awakening but it didn’t seem to occur to her that both girls were only two years ahead of him in school and well he was a cute boy. Justin had gotten those looks himself from Daphne at that age and at the time the ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ argument hadn’t had fertile ground but Hunter was straight.

Brian had - after a brief misunderstanding where Emmett was disappointed that Michael’s party would not involve a girl’s night in with all of the gang working on it together - hired Em to cater the party. He’d given him a list of things he wanted, a dance floor, decent finger food and a cake made by Vic, suggestions on decorations, like pointing Em at Debbie for embarrassing photos and how big they should be blown up, along with certain colors - lavender and pink - that must not be used in décor. Other than that Em was given a crazy big budget and the instructions to go wild.

Brian was obviously an evil genius. Not that this was news to Justin but really he hoped he used his powers for good. One the party was being held Saturday, two days before Michael’s actual birthday, so he shouldn’t suspect. Two, Tracey was Brian’s man undercover, leaking details about Michael’s work schedule so they knew when he was off and would get calls if there were changes. Three, Ted would be waiting at Woody’s to intercept Michael who was to meet Brian there and instead Ted would bring him to the party. Four, Emmett and Vic had done all the work on the party as far as food and decorations, other than hiring the Captain Astro stripper and five, Brian had somehow talked David into using his house for the party, how Justin had no idea.

Brian had still padded the guest list using people he slept with but Tracey was there with Chris and not likely to be hurt by Michael being gay. HD came with Emmett and brought a bottle of whiskey distilled the year Michel was born, which had impressed David if no one else. Wade was somehow there and Justin knew he wasn’t on their takeout list, but Brian had said Emmett was trying to get him to meet people. If nothing else Debbie was happy that David was back in the picture even if it was just as the host of the party. Although Justin wasn’t sure what would happen if Michael didn’t take David back, he just knew she better not blame Brian.

Vic, HD and Wade were chatting in the corner while Em fluttered around making sure everything was perfect. Mel and Lindsay had left Gus with Kal and were dancing in a room Em had moved all the furniture out of and added speakers and set up the rented lighted dance floor. The atmosphere was much more festive than David’s fundraiser had been the last time through and Justin wondered if David would wise up and have Em cater that if he had it for the Senator this time through. The walls were hidden behind blow ups of pictures of Michael from school and when he was a toddler. It was much nicer than the tombstone and coffin they’d done for Brian and Justin resolved to get Brian out of town for his birthday in May. He’d have to check with Lindsay to see where the exhibit would be after Dallas.

Justin went upstairs to the bedroom where all the coats were being tossed on the bed. He had left his digital camera in his coat pocket and dug around looking for it. Brian slipped in and pulled him flush against him, Justin felt Brian’s erection against his ass and ground back against him.

“So you didn’t come up here for a quickie?” Brian said.

Justin chuckled and said, “I came for my camera, and you’re never quick, but always very, very good.”

Justin turned in Brian’s arms and kissed him long and deep. He felt Brian’s hands move down to his ass and pull their hips together, grinding cock to cock. The door opened and David came in with more coats and said, “Sorry. Ted texted Emmett they’re on their way.”

“I was looking for my camera,” Justin said, blushing and hiding his face against Brian’s chest. “But I can’t find my coat and it’s in the pocket.”

“Right,” David said with a knowing grin like he didn’t believe him.

Brian, the bastard, just reached over on the far side of the pile by the head of the bed and lifted up Justin coat and said, “Which pocket?”

Ducking his head again, Justin reached in and took the camera out before sticking his tongue out at both of them and going downstairs.

Emmett must have gotten Dave’s message as he was having everyone turn off the lights and be quiet. He and Justin ducked in and shut off the lights on the dance floor. Mel and Lindsay came over and lurked with them by the door.

“What did you get him,” Lindsay asked.

Em said, “and Easy Cake Oven, it’s what every gay boy wants.”

Mel and Justin wrinkled their noses at one another but said nothing.

“Justin?” Lindsay said.

He looked over and realized she was asking what he got Michael, “Oh. A graphic novel, it’s a porn version of Iron Man and Captain America, very little plot, lots of hot guy on guy action.”

“Where did you find that?” Mel asked, “Cause Ted and I hit ‘Seduction’ and they didn’t have anything like that.”

Justin said, “I drew it, Michael and I were talking about it weeks ago, that Marvel did all those alternate universes and had several versions of each team that surely in one of them all that UST was acted on. If nothing else there’s the novelty aspect.”

“As your agent,” Lindsay said with a giggle, “I should caution you not to infringe on any copyrights, but as a fan of your work, my god that could be worth a fortune someday.”

Justin had drawn it by hand, but had scanned the finished product into his computer so he’d have a copy if something happened to it. Since he wasn’t selling it he really hadn’t worried about copyrights or law suits. It was all in fun; and if Michael ever sold it that would be on him.

Although Michael went through the motions it was obvious Ted had spilled the beans. As he went around being greeted and the lights were all up and music started again, Brian found him and hugged him from behind and said, “Ted told him didn’t he?”

“Probably, I told you that if we had it here, Michael would have a queen out. There was not casual way to just happen to stop by and see David,” Justin said.

Later, they were dancing, wrapped around each other on the strobing floor when Michael came up and said, “You realize this means war. You’ll be thirty before you know it.”

“But I’m Peter Pan, I never get old,” Brian said.

Michael scoffed, “you never grow up, no one said anything about not getting old. Who are all these people?”

“Mikey if I invited only your friends there’d be like six people here,” Brian said, “I had to open it up to sex partners.”

“I haven’t had sex with all these people,” Michael said.

Brian said, “My sex partners. Well, not Mel, obviously,” he added as the girls danced close.

Mel halfheartedly punched him in the arm and said, “God I hope I’m not the only one.”

“Did you see the cake Vic made? It’s gorgeous,” Lindsay said WASPily changing the subject.

Emmett acted as master of ceremony and there were speeches that Brian led off, but Deb and Vic, and most of the people who actually knew Michael chimed in with embarrassing stories. Even Tracey shared one from work.

When they moved onto the opening the gifts portion of the evening, Ted had gotten Michael the same silly elephant G-string. And David had given him the expensive watch. Brian’s Captain Astro issue one was wrapped and in the pile somewhere but Brian didn’t use it to upstage Dave. Justin though Michael was reaching for it when he grabbed his first.

“What’s this?” Michael asked as he opened the graphic novel.

David said, “Is that porn?”

“It’s art,” Brian said, giving him a look.

“Is this? This is!” Michael said, “this is all original – oh my God!”

“It’s highly illegal,” Justin said, “since Marvel and their phalanx of lawyers own the rights to ‘Captain America’ and ‘Iron Man’ and would never approve of what Steve and Tony get up to in this very limited addition graphic novel. Happy Birthday, Michael.”

“Thank you, this is awesome,” Michael said. “I can’t wait to read it.”

“Read. Right,” Brian said with a snort and Justin elbowed him.

All in all the evening was a success. Mel didn’t end up puking in the bathroom or even getting tipsy and Lindsay, who had pumped before leaving Gus with Kal, enjoyed being out with grownups and didn’t exclude Mel from ‘the mommy club’. Emmett let HD pull him away from his overseeing the food to dance, or rather sway, or to be honest make out pressed against the wall of the room the dance floor was in.

Wade and Vic talked quietly off to the side and Justin really didn’t get that; Wade was HD’s age and had gone to a rival high school somewhere out in the sticks. Justin still wasn’t sure he was gay, but was avoiding mentioning it to Brian because they had just ended that about HD and were kind of looking at the girls’ au pair and if not verbalizing the gay/not gay argument it was being waged in lifted eyebrows and speaking looks. So he lifted his eyebrow at Brian and nodded towards Wade.

“Seriously, it’s like your gaydar is defective,” Brian said looking up at Justin as he straddled him on one of the dining room chairs that had been moved when the table was set up with appetizers and cake to a dim corner of the living room. Brian had his feet up on a coffee table that had also been moved out ogf the way and they were sharing a dish of ice cream since Brian had avoided the cake. “If I hadn’t picked you up on that corner, you’d probably still be a virgin. If a guy isn’t literally grabbing your ass you think he’s straight.”

Justin huffed, fed Brian another spoonful of vanilla and then leaned in to kiss/share the ice cream.

“Come on you two, enough of that,” Debbie said.

Justin turned to find Debbie bagging empty cups and bottles as she made her way around the room. Given he could see though the doorway to the dance floor that HD was practically having sex with Em against the wall and that Lindsay was hanging on to Mel as they came out of the kitchen and approached them he wanted to make sure she was talking to them. When it was obvious she was he hit her with a frosty, “Debbie, should you be neglecting your date like this?”

“I don’t have a date,” she said taking the bait.

Justin growled, “You really need one.”

“Hey,” Brian cut in, “you two, neutral corners. Lay off each other for one night, you don’t have to bury the hatchet but this is Mikey’s night. Swallow your fucking drama and just avoid each other.”

Debbie huffed and headed to the kitchen with her garbage bag. Justin rose off Brian and headed to the bathroom.

+

Brian sighed, those two had been close last time and now they locked horns every fucking time they were around each other. Or at least whenever they were around each other and the subject of Brian Kinney came up. He wondered if he would have found them fighting over him amusing the first time. He doubted it; he’d left home to avoid conflict.

Mel and Lindsay were giggling and happy so he smiled when they sat down. Neither was drunk, Lindsay because she was nursing and Mel because, well he didn’t know why maybe she was driving. Having seen Lindsay drive he wouldn’t blame her.

“What was that about?” Lindsay asked.

Brian thought about blowing her off, she was only doing the WASP polite thing and probably wasn’t really concerned but he said, “Fire and gasoline. She can’t keep from voicing her opinion of my sex life and Justin will not take it. He has to push back. Why the fuck does he care what she thinks?”

“He loves you, you idiot,” Mel said.

Brian said, “I know that. But why can’t he just let her have her say and ignore her? That’s what I do. For all her PFLAG happy horseshit she is not now, nor will she ever be, a gay man. Her weirdass rules on who can be sluts and who has to toe the ‘happy homo housewife’ line are all in her own head and of no concern to me so why does Justin have to hit back every time?

“Justin’s very young-” Lindsay started.

“He loves you, you idiot,” Mel said more pointedly. Brian looked at her confused because usually when Mel repeated herself it was louder and because she wasn’t making any real point at normal volume. She continued, “You can let it slide because she’s, for lack of a better term, attacking you. He can’t because she’s attacking you. I’m the same way with Ron and Nancy. The things that Lindsay just shrugs off make me so mad I see red. She dismisses them because she has a level of hurt she’s willing to accept from them. I can’t because it’s Lindsay their hurting.”

“Oh, Mel,” Lindsay said. And they were kissing all open-mouthed and Brian cringed because seriously lesbians. He didn’t want one moist female let alone two. And Justin was back so Brian looked up at him, a much better sight.

Justin still looked kind of pissed but he flicked a glance at Lindsay and Mel and smiled indulgently before rolling his eyes. Brian said, “they’re all moist and icky.”

Justin grinned and went back to straddling Brian on the chair before kissing him and saying, “they’re the mothers of your child and you love them.”

Now it was Brian’s turn to roll his eyes and cop a fee, before he said, “Feel better?”

“I don’t know. Think I should tell ‘she who monitors my sex life’ that the birthday boy is getting his end away upstairs in the master bedroom? Maybe she can go offer her input there?” Justin said.

“Is it with David?” Lindsay asked given this was the first the girls had met Dave, Brian thought it was an understandable comment.

Brian looked casually around, he couldn’t see the whole downstairs from his seat and he was not lifting his own hot blond off his lap to check but he couldn’t spot Dave anywhere. When a few minutes later Michael and David came down the stairs it was Mel who started the applause and whistles. Brian just joined in to be polite.

 


	54. But by night I'm one hell of a lover.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience this chapter was an absolute bear. It’s also really long and should have been three chapters but I decided to try to run them chronologically and simultaneously. I now know why the writers had such a tiny cast. Keeping all the balls in the air is really hard and continuity between those onscreen (so to speak) and off screen is; well, let’s say I now understand how the QAF timeline became the Gordian’s knot it is.  
> This chapter spans a two week period from Wednesday February 7th 2001 to Wednesday February 21st, 2001. I kept having to go back to get the time to pass correctly in all three cities. Yes, just keeping multiple story lines going was too easy without time zone shifts. So I hope it’s coherent, if not it’s not for lack of trying.  
> So here we have a tale of three cities, it should be four but if you knew what just the US time zones did to my sanity let’s just say Michael and David’s trip to Paris happened pretty much exactly as cannon.

+

“Paris! I love Paris,” Emmett gushed, happily.

Ted asked, “When were you in Paris?”

“I haven’t been; yet, but I’ve seen it in the movies,” Emmett said and went back to admiring Michael’s new luggage.

Brian was leaning against Dave’s floating stair case. He was less interested this time in questioning Michael’s abrupt willingness to be a kept man than he was in figuring out how to avoid the fucking slideshow once they got back from their ten days in Paris. Maybe if he and Justin extended the Phoenix trip a few days they could miss it.

According to Emmett, Michael hadn’t officially moved in with Dave although he was here more than at their place and he was keeping clothes and other things here. Not that Em confided these things to Brian but he’d overheard him fretting with Ted on the way over to pick Michael up. Apparently the lease on their place would be up for renewal in March and Emmett didn’t want to renew it if Michael wasn’t going to be living there. HD really wanted Em to move in with him and Em was absolutely floating over his man mountain. Brian had seen Emmett happy over the years. Often to the point he wondered how Em could manage though some of the shit that rolled into his life but he had never seen him this comfortably content. Em had stellar highs and was good at pulling himself up from the emotional crash and burns. Losing George, losing Vic, losing Godiva, letting Drew go, Em had grieved almost as hard as Michael when they lost Ben and Debbie but Emmett could be like Scarlett fucking O’Hara as far as pulling himself back up and going on.

Brian nearly had to physically restrain himself from making the almost required digs about how cliché going to Paris for Valentine’s Day was. Regardless of being older and more mature he had never got David and Mikey and never would. But if it made Mikey happy he’d hold his tongue. After giving suitable attention to and admiring all Michael’s new shit, the four of them piled back into Brian’s jeep and headed for Woody’s.

+

Justin’s stomach growled. It wasn’t much after noon and crossing time zones it would be two hours earlier in Pittsburgh so he figured his hunger was psychosomatic. The light was bright and so different from dreary Pittsburgh in February. It had to be about seventy degrees.

Justin waited on the curb with their luggage while Brian picked up the rental. Justin was well in the shade but the dry desert heat was wonderful after the icy slogging through February winter that had been plaguing him lately. He entertained the notion of talking Brian into buying a place out here and becoming snow birds. Not that Pittsburgh wasn’t wonderful in the brief period between the oppressive humidity of Summer the dangerous wind chill and hazardous roads of Winter; but those six weeks of great weather tended to be when every road in the state was being repaired. He must have looked like a flower opening to the sun because a young Hispanic man started chatting him up. It started innocent enough about the weather and where he was from, and then Jesse, who was local and returning from a business trip, started to recommend places to see and offered to show Justin around. Justin was saved from responding by Brian pulling up and hitting the horn.

Brian popped the trunk of the white Audi he’d rented and got out to help load the luggage. Arizona wasn’t New York and apparently Brian hadn’t found a hotel worthy of him in walking distance of the museum. Jesse seemed to find Brian more intriguing than intimidating and Justin introduced them. Brian was polite, for Brian anyway, and Jesse recommended some local hot spots. Brian didn’t even make a crack when Jesse said one of them had great line dancing. Justin said it was a working weekend but thanked Jesse for the offer.

Though the windows were tinted the first thing Brian said when they started off to the hotel was, “I hope you brought sun screen.”

“In my bag, I should have thought to put it on this morning but honestly the roads were so bad I was more worried we wouldn’t make in to the airport in time, rather than I might burn in the car.

The hotel was a sprawling resort with rooms terraced up surrounding a complex pool and patio area and a long snaking manmade river that surrounded it. There was a golf course and outdoor spa on the other side. It had been a good call to arrive on Valentine’s Day. There didn’t seem to have the rush checking in for the weekend and all the guests who had come to be soppy and romantic had probably checked in yesterday.

Their suite contained a sitting room that had a desk, a wet bar, sofa and arm chair, television and a balcony overlooking the terrace and pools. The bedroom had a California king, another television and a sizable wardrobe. The bathroom had a shower nearly as large as the one at the loft and a deep jetted tub. Justin wanted to move in there, or keep it as a vacation home. The exhibit’s opening wasn’t until Saturday night at the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art and they had days to do nothing but relax and enjoy the warmth of the weather.

+

Emmett’s apartment was blissfully quiet with Michael in Paris. At least more so than HD’s place that was still ringing with construction sounds from the lower floors. Wednesday afternoon Emmett was singing as he carried his laundry up the stairs from the basement. Another selling point to moving, HD was in the process of putting a small laundry at the back end of the loft’s storage area tucked behind one of the sleeping rooms, since it was right behind a bathroom it could use the same water hookups and the same ductwork as the fan in the bathroom for the drier vent.

There had been no heart shaped boxes of chocolates but in a way it had been the most romantic Valentine’s Day he’d ever spent. He and HD had stopped by with croissants and French roast for Godiva that morning and spent an hour or so catching up. HD and Godiva were in agreement that Emmett should use the money from the drag competition to take a chance and start his own party planning business. It had always been a dream of his but it seemed so risky. At least at Torso he had health insurance. HD pointed out that he might not be getting paid well as a style consultant for Davis Properties but he could be added onto their health insurance and it was better insurance than at Torso. Maybe he’d talk to Teddy, have him look at his finances, such as they were and see if it was even possible.

They’d then gone to Phipps Conservatory and toured the gardens, given HD saw all the myriad colors as various shades of gray Emmett had spent much of the time rhapsodizing aloud on all the brilliant combinations of colors. It gave him so many ideas for outfits and party décor.

Emmett held the laundry basket awkwardly on his hip while he opened the door to his apartment. He had worried about leaving his laundry in the dryer when he got distracted by HD after they’d ordered dinner; the building had only two dryers. Nothing was more frustrating than to wash and dry your clothes only to find them piled messily on top of the dusty dryer because someone didn’t want to wait to use it.

Opening the door he saw HD on the landline. Which given they’d already ordered dinner was weird because HD would use his cell if he wanted to call anyone.

“Yes, Ma’am,” HD said, the fact that he was standing straight and nodding while on the phone would have been amusing if he hadn’t looked so serious. When he spotted Emmett, and Em admitted he probably had a ‘what’s going on’ look on his face, HD said, “I will, ah he just walked in. Sure. Just a minute,” HD with a look of panicked apology said, “I’m sorry, we called the order in from this line. I thought the driver was lost.” Holding out the phone to Emmett he added, “It’s your Aunt Lula.”

Aunt Lula never called long distance and when Emmett called her she chastised him for spending the money. He stopped himself from skipping the greeting and starting with who’s dead by force of will alone. “Aunt Lula?”

There was a knock on the door and HD went, answered it, paid for the food and set it on the kitchen counter. Emmett watched HD as he filled the kettle and put it on, and then just sort of loitered around the tiny kitchen as if trying to give him privacy for his call.

The call was brief of course. Aunt Lula was never one to chat long on the phone. Her phone was kept in the foyer just off the parlor on a chintzy little table. One did not sit down and relax to converse on the phone, phone calls were important and grave events to be taken seriously; at least in Aunt Lula’s world.

+

Debbie had a rare day off, she’d been out running errands and doing some shopping for the good ricotta she wanted to use to make lasagna. With Michael out of the country it would just be the three of them for dinner. She came in the front door and Vic was dozing in front of the TV. She hollered up the stairs to Hunter to have him help put away the groceries and perhaps she’d show him how to make Aunt Marie’s lasagna. Lord knows Michael had grown up without any skill in the kitchen despite her and Vic being quite good cooks. It might do the kid good to learn a few things so he could cook for himself when he was grown up.

“He’s not up there,” Vic said groggily, not having been able to sleep through her calling Hunter.

Debbie continued into the kitchen asking, “Well, where the hell is he?”

“Those girls came by after school, their taking him to a four o’clock show over at Waterworks and then out to eat,” Vic said.

Debbie started to put away the groceries saying, “I’m making lasagna, they could have eaten here.”

“Deb, there are five of them, that’s a little too much to just show up looking for food. And I got the impression they wanted to get him out of the house,” Vic said, coming out to help her.

Debbie asked, “Why would they want to get him out of the house? He’s happy here. Well, he spends too much time in his room playing those video games. But you get him out of the house; you’ve been taking him with you to Liberty House to volunteer and to the GLC.”

“He needs to be around kids, Deb,” Vic said and then paused as if considering his words, which had always driven her crazy, if he had something to say he should just spit it out. Vic continued, “They probably want to get him somewhere he can talk without one of us overhearing.”

Debbie bristled and said, “Why would they need to worry about that? Do you think their up to something?”

“Deb, I just think their being cautious, just like the social worker and the lawyer, they want to make sure he’s comfortable and that no one is pressuring him to do anything he doesn’t want to,” Vic said.

Debbie turned an incredulous look on Vic and said, “Well I like that, how dare they-”

“Given what he’s been through,” Vic cut in, “and that the hardest part, before she was arrested was getting people, even you, to believe that any mother could do what she did to her son, I think it’s understandable that they’re wary.”

Debbie rolled her lips in and said, “This is that Justin’s doing-”

“Brian and Justin aren’t even in town. The girls were loudly missing him when they talked about school, he has some sort of show in Arizona and Brian went with him. I was right here with you in this kitchen when Justin told you that if we agreed to take Hunter he came with a bevy of Valkyrie who would be watching us like hawks,” Vic said.

Debbie turned back to the counter and reached up to where she kept her lasagna pan. She said, “It doesn’t make any sense, that poor kid probably doesn’t want to be fussed over by a bunch of girls anyway.”

“Michael wouldn’t have wanted five pretty girls dotting on him at that age. I don’t think Hunter minds,” Vic said with a sly smile, Debbie whirled to look at him and he added, “I’d stake a lifetime of gaydar on the fact that kid is straight.”

+

“She asked for you. We’re going,” HD said, he sat at Emmett’s laptop and pulled up the site for US Airways, felt around for his wallet and pulled out a credit card.

Emmett said, “I don’t know, Huxley. That town; it’s dangerous.”

“I’m dangerous,” he said, “and if it bothers you we’ll stay in Jackson and drive into see her. She’s family; she wants to see that you’re doing well. That sending you away was the right thing. So pack your Jessica Rabbit dress and go put her mind at ease, sing her those songs you rehearsed for the competition that you didn’t get to do and she can tell me how I’m not good enough for her boy.”

Emmett had tears in his eyes and hugged HD’s broad shoulders as he stood behind him. Emmett said, “I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“What exactly does ‘getting the sign’ mean? Should we be packing tarot cards?” HD asked.

“It means she’s going to die,” Emmett said. “She’s getting her affairs in order, before she goes home to Jesus.”

HD looked at Emmett skeptically and said, “You never mentioned your people were psychic.”

“We’re not, it’s just sometimes, when its time you know,” Emmett said.

HD clicked away at the computer and said, “Not really. Most people I know that died it happened so fast they weren’t even aware of it.”

Emmett stood and started rubbing those broad shoulders. For someone who must have spent most of his schooling in shop class the boy could type. He was entering is credit card information without even stopping to look at the card. Given how often he placed orders with Home Depot for pick up, clicking them all in online, paying for them and just swinging by the contractor pick up lane to have it loaded into his truck it made sense.

“Can you be ready to leave in an hour? I got us a room in Jackson. We should land by 11 tonight and I got us a rental, we’ll get a couple hours of sleep and head to your aunt’s. How long’s it take from Jackson to Hazlehurst?” HD said.

“About an hour,” Emmett said.

HD asked, “The way you drive or I drive?”

“It’s thirty or forty miles depending on where in Jackson we’re staying,” Em said with an indulgent smile.

HD said, “So half an hour, I booked us at the Marriott. I got us a truck, I can’t stand those little clown cars, so we can pick up some breakfast and be at your Aunt’s bright and early tomorrow.”

“She might want to cook for us and that sounds expensive,” Em said.

HD said, “Don’t worry about it. I was going to suggest we head somewhere warm for a couple days any way, Mississippi’s warm. And if she’s dying should she be cooking?” He stood up and shoved his wallet back in his pocket and said, “Who do you have to call? Can you call your boss now? You better check in with that posse of yours or they’ll all panic when you’re not around. I’m going to go grab some stuff at my place and I’ll be back as fast as I can. Eat something while you’re packing.”

“Huxley,” Emmett said, draping his arms loosely up on his shoulders and linking his fingers behind HD’s neck. “I can’t tell you what this means.”

HD kissed him long and slow and smiled in that way that transformed him from a big scary man into the sweetest boy Emmett had ever met. He said, “Don’t forget to call Godiva, let him know what’s going on.”

+

Thursday morning, Ted met Mel at ‘Palmieri's’ off Grant for breakfast. It was only a few blocks from Liberty but with Michael in Paris and Brian in Phoenix and now Emmett taking off for Hazlehurst he couldn’t bear being the only chick in Debbie’s nest. Mel laughed openly when he’d given that as the reason, in addition to ‘Palmieri's’ being closer to where both of them worked.

“So, I didn’t hear; where is Emmett’s romantic trip too?” Mel asked.

Ted sighed and said, “Hazlehurst. Apparently Aunt Lula got the sign. I hate the thought of him going back there. It’s the stuff he doesn’t say about it that makes me think it’s dangerous.”

“Well, HD is the kind of back-up you want if you’re in danger,” Mel said. “He literally carried hundreds of pounds of drywall and flooring up our stairs easier than I could carry groceries when he finished the attic.”

“How is that going?” Ted asked, “Is it weird having a strange man live in your house?”

“I never thought I’d be the type of person to have ‘live-in’ help, but honestly I don’t know how people do without it. Kal is there when you want him and makes himself scares when you don’t,” Mel said. “It’s uncanny.”

“You don’t find it awkward?” Ted asked. “I mean it’s hard enough living with someone you’re involved with, let alone other people.”

Mel shrugged, “I think having just the two of us and Gus for nearly eight weeks while we got in the routine and had the room remodeled and then got Kal situated let me see what life with just the two of us, and a new baby would be like. We never saw each other except when we were cleaning up a catastrophe, we never got to just talk it was all ‘what do we do about Gus’. I love him but I was starting to feel superfluous; and maybe a bit jealous.”

“So what did you want to go over,” Ted said.

“Well we reworked the budget when we got Kal, and even if Lindsay’s ‘business’ is still just three artists so far, I just made junior partner.”

“Congratulations,” Ted said.

“Thanks, but the salary increase isn’t anything to write home about, but I have the potential to get better paying clients now, however, and this is what we want you to go over the budget for, I’m considering having a baby,” Mel said.

“I thought.” Ted started.

“I couldn’t,” Mel said, “but medicine has advanced in the decade or so since I was diagnosed and I had an operation. I can. Lindsay and I would like the kids to be close in age, but before I get pregnant I want to go over the numbers. One of the girls in my office was only off six weeks when she had a baby and that was covered by short term disability, I just want to make sure that we won’t suffer financially if I go ahead with this soon.”

“Okay,” Ted said, “I don’t know much about pregnancy but how about we double that time off for a worst case scenario and I do two budgets one if it goes as planned and one if you need more time off?”

“That sounds smart,” Mel said, “have you ever thought about it?”

“What?” Ted asked.

“Having a kid,” Mel said.

Ted looked up at her in shock. He said, “No. I mean when I was younger I knew, well I knew. And as I got older; well, I don’t like kids. Not Gus, of course, he’s great.”

“He’s a crying poop machine only a mother could love,” Mel laughed, “all babies are. I was the same way ‘congratulations, go breed but leave me out of it’. But I wonder how much of that was sour grapes, because I knew I couldn’t have any.”

“You know it’s not just finances, babies; kids they eat up time and attention and well you’ve already got one so you know. There will be unidentifiable sticky stuff somewhere around you at all time until he moves out of the house,” Ted said.

Mel laughed, “His barf takes the color out of everything. If I was marketing a stain remover I’d call it baby barf; the stuff is corrosive.”

“And you want another one,” Ted said with a smirk.

Mel smiled, it was a soft smile not her usual predatory grin, “I want to give life, I want to feel him or her come to being inside me and my body sustain my baby. Lindsay would get this look on her face, it was transcendent, she would try to explain, but there really aren’t words. I want to experience that.”

“Maybe it’s the Y chromosome talking but that sounds horrific,” Ted said.

+

Emmett was glad he had a platter of fancy pastries in his lap because holding it kept him from wringing his hand. His designer coffee sat in the cup holder at his side as HD sped down I55. They had checked in at nearly eleven the night before, or rather HD had, he’d left Emmett with the luggage in the truck he’d rented and then they’d self-parked and taken the elevator up from the parking garage to their suite. It was a single King and Emmett had no doubt if they’d gone to the check in counter together some zealot would have switched them to two queens.

HD had steered him into a hot shower and kneaded every knot out of his back and shoulders before relaxing him in a much more thorough and athletic way. Emmett still bolted awake at three with his heart pounding, but HD had rolled over tucked him close and muttered it was too early and they’d be the ones killing the old girl with a heart attack if they showed up before sunrise. So he’d dozed off in HD’s arms only to be woken by the in room coffee machine chugging away.

Emmett had emerged from shaving to hear Huxley on the line with the concierge explaining they were in town visiting family and wanted to bring a breakfast platter suitable for a condolence call. They were dressed and ready to leave in ten minutes. HD picked up the platter at the front desk after signing to have it charged to the room, while Emmett hit the Starbucks off the lobby. Pausing only to purchase some daffodils from a corner vendor who was out catching the work traffic; given the breakneck speed Huxley drove and they fact they were going against the flow of traffic into Jackson, they’d be at Aunt Lula’s around seven.

+

Vic and Hunter blinked blearily at each other across the breakfast table. Debbie had rousted them both out of bed at an ungodly early hour because she fixed breakfast before her early shift. Normally Hunter would have fell on the sausage and eggs as if he’d never eaten but after the movies they’d gone for pizza, and then three guys from the girls’ school had met them back at another movie and then they all sat around a big table at ‘Eat N Park’ sharing pie and ice cream until after midnight. All he wanted to do right now was sleep. Vic had whispered on the way down the stairs, “She starts at six so we can go back to bed once she leaves.”

“You were out late,” Debbie said, she was bustling around cleaning up the pan she’d cooked breakfast in.

Hunter just nodded in agreement and nibbled on a piece of toast. It hadn’t been a school night for him. He wondered how long it took the girls to get ready with all the makeup and junk they did to their hair, because if they were as tired has him and had to be up doing all that to be at school on time, they were amazing. His eyelids felt heavy and they seemed to be closing on their own no matter how hard he tried to keep them open.

“Hunter, did you hear me? Where were you?” Debbie asked.

He said, “Uhm, ‘Waterworks’? ‘Sbarros’, movies ‘Eat N Park’.”

“You can have your friends here, you know. I’d be happy to cook for them,” Debbie said. She’d lost the pan at some point and was standing right beside him, looking like she wanted to start force feeding him.

Hunter cut into one of the sausage links Debbie had dished up for him, hoping if he looked like he was eating she wouldn’t start nagging about how skinny he was. He said, “Thanks. I usually just go wherever they take me. Besides Brittney and Mon come over to play Grand Theft Auto all the time.”

“Those girls aren’t pressuring you to do something you don’t want to, are they?” Debbie asked. Hunter saw from the corner of his eye that Vic facepalmed. Vic was seven kinds of awesome and apparently quite use to his sister thinking everything was her business.

Hunter swallowed the sausage slice he’d been chewing and asked, “you mean like sell my body for money and drugs?”

+

“Oh my angel boy I’m so happy for you,” Aunt Lula cried. She was even tinier than Emmett remembered. As tears of joy streaming down her papery cheeks she hung on to him for dear life. In the doorway, Emmett bent nearly in two as he hugged her back. When she finally let him go she let him step back as she eyed him up and said, “Oh, Emmett you’re so thin. And this must be Huxley.”

“Ma’am,” HD said, looking as adorably bashful as a man over six and a half foot could. He scuffed the toe of his boot and held out the flowers.

She smiled brightly, taking them and said, “Isn’t he the sweetest thing.” She ushered them inside and into the kitchen. After putting the flowers in water, she had bustled around putting coffee up and getting out the cream pitcher and cubes of sugar. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” Lula said. “I was sure I’d be called home without ever seeing my darlin boy again.”

“It’s no hardship at all to get out of the ‘burgh in February, Ma’am,” HD said, “And Em misses you like you wouldn’t believe.”

“I’m afraid I bend Huxley’s ear about you and Gran quite a bit, Aunt Lula,” Emmett said as he uncovered the breakfast platter and made room for Lula to set out her good cups and saucers.

It was easy to spend an hour with remember whens and updating his aunt while showing pictures of all the gang back on Liberty Avenue. She was quite taken with the first shot of Brian, said he had the look of a scoundrel who could get a girl into trouble but a later one showed him at the sip and see with Gus and she said, “Ah, someone’s tamed him.” So Emmett explained about Gus’ two mothers and Brian not living with them but living with Justin, who he also had a couple shots of. Ted, Michael and Brian she’d heard about in letters for years, but Justin and the changes just since Thanksgiving in all their lives Emmett hadn’t had a chance to catch her up on.

After a while HD was looking antsy with sitting around and asked if she had an ‘around to it’ list. Emmett had translated Western Pennsylvania to Mississippi and explained he was asking or a ‘honey do’ list. So with a list that had been building for a time when one of Emmett’s brothers though to offer and a shed with hand tools older than probably Aunt Lula, HD left them to gossip and made himself useful.

“He’s a handsome one,” she said after HD had headed out to the shed in the back.

Em nodded and said, “And a real gentleman, Aunt Lula. He has the kindest ways, and he won’t stand for anyone being disrespectful, especially to me. But he doesn’t think I’m weak, or stupid or well, less in any way. It’s a nice change, having someone who just isn’t only interested in,” Em trailed off because this was his Aunt Lula, she was over eighty despite a lady never revealing her age, and there were just somethings that no matter how accepting of him she was he couldn’t share with her so he finished with a blush and said, “sparking,”

She threw back her head and laughed loud and hard, until tears were back in her eyes. When she finally got herself under control she said, “Oh, my sweet angel boy, I reckon he’s interested in a lot more than sparking, otherwise he wouldn’t be treating you so fair.”

“We’ve been talking about setting up house together. I know it’s too soon, but it seems silly to renew a lease for another year. I’m sure that’s why he drove so hard to get a new place finished up. Oh you should see the bathroom. He put in this deep soaker tub and I know it’s because my place only has a shower and he knows I miss taking bubble baths,” Emmett said.

They sat at the table nibbling on pastries and talking of everything. He told her of his idea about the party planning business and how supportive Godiva and HD were. He told her of winning the prize money and it seeming like a sign. Then their talk drifted to her getting the sign it was time and they both teared up again. Finally Lula swatted him and said, “Your man’s been working all morning, let’s scrabble some dinner for him,” and they started to assemble a meal together, it felt like old times and Emmett almost expected to see his Gran bustling about with them. Before they knew it they had pots steaming and the oven hot and a big meal with coming together. Having seen the way HD could pack it away Emmett didn’t even tell her she was making too much, but he was going to stock her fridge before they left as he knew how tight money was for her.

“What’s he doing here?” a voice said from the doorway back toward the front of the house. Emmett’s brother Judson stood filling the doorway to the kitchen and looking appalled.

Aunt Lula said, “I told you I got the sign, Jud. Did you think I wouldn’t want to see my boy one last time?”

“Hello, Jud,” Em said.

“You shouldn’t have come back here,” Jud said starting to raise his voice.

“It’s a free country and he’ll go wherever he damn well pleases,” HD said, from immediately behind Judson. Judson jumped whirled and just managed to not fall on his ass. HD looked like he was pondering how to dismember Judson, before Aunt Lula cleared her throat; he then looked contrite and said, “Sorry, Ma’am.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Jud asked.

HD growled, “Watch you language in front of the lady, asshole.”

“Jud,” Emmett said, “this is my beau, HD Davis.”

Judson whirred back to shoot a disgusted look, sure everyone had known but Emmett had never said to any of his siblings or officially announced he was gay, it was just a given. Judson’s mouth worked, he looked from Emmett to Aunt Lula and still not sound came out finally he sputtered, “Your beau?”

“You boys wash up, now,” Lula said, “Judson, you use the upstairs washroom; Huxley right here at the sink. It won’t do to have you boys try and share the washroom, you’d come to blows for sure.” She flapped a towel at Jud and said, “Go on now; I expect you right back here to help set the table.”

+

Brian finished his laps in the huge pool and pulled himself up onto the surrounding tiles. It was bright but not too hot, the perfect time of year to visit Arizona. He strolled down the center walkway that spanned the pool separating the uniform lap area from a more freeform play area under slides and diving boards. As he approached the large central island that the pools surrounded, a cooling mist rained down from the pergola covering the pool’s bar. The bartender, a twenty-something curvy brunette quickly prepared his requested drink as he passed and continued down the walkway back to the resort’s main building. He sipped at the frozen guava and tequila regretting he couldn’t get this at Babylon. He’d liked it and except for the alcohol it met Justin’s heart healthy requirements. It had been a great idea to get here a little early and enjoy the weather away from the winter wastes of Pittsburgh. If he could talk Justin into missing more school maybe they wouldn’t head back on Monday, he was still hoping to miss the damn slide show.

The main terrace between the hotel and the pool was a maze of large comfortable lounge furniture filled mostly with bored trophy wives who watched him approach like a pack of lions; no wonder they called them cougars. He walked past glad he’d unclipped his sunglasses from his swim trunks and put them on so they wouldn’t see him roll his eyes; nothing worse than a pack of middle age women behaving like teenagers. When Justin’s girls did it, it was amusing but not one of them was older than eighteen so it was also to be excused.

Justin was sitting inside the resort’s large interior lounge around it main bar, open to the terrace by a retractable wall. The air was noticeably cooler in the shade of the building. Given they were all so green conscious out here it probably wasn’t even air conditioned just such a contrast from being out in the bright sun. Justin was reading ‘Tuesday’s with Morrie’ a Christmas gift from one of his little entourage.

Brian greeted him by asking, “Sorry you’re not in Paris, my delicate little flower?”

“Paris,” Justin began in his PSA voice, ignoring the dig at his lack of tanning ability, “as we know, is further north than Thunder Bay Ontario, which as we also know is considerably north of Pittsburgh – so February in Paris, no I’m not jealous at all. Put some more sunscreen on my back?”

“Sunshine, you’re indoors,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Brian, Susan was sitting in this very chair yesterday and burned her legs.”

“Who’s Susan?” Brian asked and as Justin opened his mouth to no doubt give him Susan’s long and uninteresting story, tales about her kids and her secret dreams and ambitions he hastily added, “not that I care, I really don’t. When are you going to learn not to talk to strangers?”

+

Apparently they were important enough to warrant the good china. Emmett’s brother had stomped down from the upstairs washroom like a spoiled five year old. Em had had to take over the setting of the table because Judson had been manhandling Lula’s china and cutlery.

So far HD’d only suggested to the ass that they step outside to discuss the weather. He wasn’t sure how the word they were here had spread, given they hadn’t stopped anywhere since leaving Jackson but he’d known something was up when this one had pulled up slinging gravel and barged in without so much as a courtesy knock. So HD had left off mending the shutter that had come loose around the side of the house and slipped in behind him, just in case he started trouble. Sure enough the ass had started right in on Em as if he had some sort of say in where Em went or what he did. HD made a resolution to be nicer to his own brother when he next saw him, because regardless of Marc’s total lack of filter or his tendency to run his mouth and then look to HD to back him up in whatever fight he started he wasn’t that bad when compared to this asshole.

Em and Lula had started the conversation again, mostly church gossip and marrying and burying updates. Judson, who’d been dividing his glares between Em and him, chimed in out of nowhere, “You know I’m the Copiah County’s bare knuckles champion.”

“That so?” HD said, “I’m the Western Pennsylvania caber tossing champion.

“What’s caber tossing, dear?” Lula asked.

HD wiped his mouth before answering and said, “It’s where you throw a log, approximately seventeen feet long weighing between one fifty and two hundred pounds. So Judson; how much do you weight?”

“Huxley,” Emmett said, but HD could see he was fighting a smile, “hush now. So Judson, Aunt Lula said you’re still seeing Patty Perkins from over Hopewell. How come you haven’t married her yet you been courting for years.”

“That’s none of your concern,” Jud said.

Aunt Lula added, “Oh, they break up about every other month. She was even seeing his friend Tommy Jackson from high school for a while and Jud was running with some bartender over in Utica, had a daughter but never been married. But they always seem to end up back together.”

“Your daughter?” HD asked.

Judson looked appalled and turned red and looked at Lula and said, “No.” He looked back at HD and said, “Where the hell do you get off asking that?”

“You’re straight,” HD said, “I’ve been given to understand babies just happen to you people. Frequently.”

Emmett said, “I’m sure if Judson has any children he’d own up to it and take care of them whether he felt inclined to marry their mama or not. I wasn’t trying to put you on the spot Jud, I was just making conversation.”

+

Debbie was working a double shift and had been gone most of the day. Hunter had been studying for his placement test diligently. Although Debbie nagged him about playing games he mostly played when the girls visited. Vic figured the threat of being kept back a year was enough to motivate the boy. He really was a good kid. Had a smart mouth and no patience for fools but seemed genuinely kind and helped out three days a week right alongside Vic at Liberty House.

Monica and Brittney, Hunter’s most frequent visitors were up in his room playing ‘Grand Theft Auto’ with him. Vic was planning to get their orders for pizza. That way when Deb came home they’d be at the kitchen table and she’d be less likely to hear the game and the girls giggling and burst into the room and embarrass Hunter.

He knocked on the door and heard Hunter call out to have him come in. Opening the door he stuck his head in and said, “I was going to order pizza, any preferences.”

At the same time that Hunter said, “Meat.”

Monica said, “No vegetables.”

“Mushrooms,” Brittney said.

“Eww,” Hunter and Monica chorused.

Brittney huffed, “they’re not vegetables.”

“They’re a fungus,” Hunter said.

The game was paused for the debate and Vic cut in with, “how about pepperoni, with half mushrooms and half sausage.”

“Thank you, Mr. Grassi,” The girls harmonized sickingly sweet.

Hunter rolled his eyes and added, “Thanks, Vic.”

+

They’d headed back to their hotel. Just seeing Aunt Lula was a weight off Emmett’s mind. Given he’d been fretting since he got her call and hadn’t slept well the night before even leaving when she normally went to bed at nine had him dozing in the car on the way back to their hotel. HD had parked and opened the door on his side before Em was blinking and looking around. He guided him to the elevator and had them back in their room before Emmett really had a chance to wake up.

As they brushed their teeth Emmett asked, “Do you mind if we stop at the Winn-Dixie on the way over tomorrow, I want to pick up some groceries. I can’t imagine her being prepared to feed us up regular.”

“Good idea,” HD said, “you don’t think cooking is too much of a strain on her? What with her planning to die and all.”

“I’ll help, and it’s something she enjoys. She and Gran use to host Sunday dinner for the whole family when I was young,” Emmett said.

HD said, “Bet there’ll be more showing up, once your brother runs his mouth. Think it’ll be tomorrow or will they wait for Sunday to show up.”

“We’re going back Monday so they better get said what they have to or hold their peace,” Emmett said.

HD asked, “Any of them you want to try and keep, maybe give me a signal so I don’t throw them or something.”

“Just don’t bust up Aunt Lula’s furniture,” Emmett said. “And lord do not turn your back on Jud, he’s a sneaky little shit.”

+

Justin slowly smoothed the lotion down Brian’s back enjoying the silky feel of the sun warmed skin beneath his fingers. It was some ridiculously expensive after-sun product that had aloe and vitamin E along with coco butter and rare emollients. For all he knew about stuff like this it could have been lube. He did however enjoy having Brian relaxed and pliant under his hands. Sure he’d pretty much fallen in lust at first sight but he wondered if Brian had always looked as good as he did now. He was certainly taking better care of himself, despite keeping the local Thai place in business. For someone who eschewed carbs Brian could live on noodles.

They’d been out late the night before dancing and slept until afternoon. Even Brian with his tanning talent should not have gone out in the afternoon sun. He hadn’t been out there long and had consented to wear sunscreen but in the time it took him to do a few laps he said he could feel it tighten up his skin. So they’d filled the tub and added almost the whole box of powdered milk they’d picked up at ‘Safeway’ along with the fresh ground coffee and sugar to stock their room when they’d first arrived. The milk bath made both their skin exceedingly soft and Justin just wanted to rub all over skin to skin.

Justin rolled Brian over to work on his front. His eyelids were at half-mast and he looked stoned out of his mind but other than a long soak and a massage he was sober. He hadn’t even indulged in the guava and tequila frozen drink which Justin was pretty sure the bartender was planning to name ‘the Brian Kinney’.

“Justin,” Brian drawled. “Did you have a plan when you go me all loose and relaxed?”

“Not really,” Justin said, with a blinding grin. “Why? Do you have some suggestions?”

Brian smiled a slightly loopy grin and said, “You could fuck me.”

“You have the best plans,” Justin said and reached for a condom.

+

Only one of Emmett’s two sisters stopped by the next day. And given that all his brothers, except Jud would be working he didn’t expect to see any of the other two until evening or the weekend if at all. Charlene wore long sleeves and brought her boy. He was a bookish slip of a thing named Rory and had a black eye. When Emmett asked why he wasn’t in school Charlene said he was suspended for fighting. Given that Rory was all of seven and wasn’t showing to have inherited the Honeycutt height, looking like a strong wind would send him sailing Emmett was put in mind of his own safe journey through Hazlehurst public school system and felt his heart go out to his nephew.

On the way to Hazlehurst that morning they’d stopped not only at the market but stopped at a ‘Lowes’ off 55 on the way down. HD bought some supplies, including a five gallon canister of outdoor paint in a color Emmett said most matched Aunt Lula’s forest green trim. As a result he’d been out from underfoot most of the day and had met most of the older men in walking distance who felt the need to stop by and comment on his painting skill. One of them had even brought over an extension latter, another offered scaffolding, so he could do the second floor and along the ridge line. Of course it was an old fashioned one where the ladders hooked together with another extended between them and HD pronounced it less safe than hanging off the side of the building but it was the thought that counted.

And apparently the neighbors were thinking a lot about them. The front porch was blocked off due to the wet paint, but Aunt Lula was having callers at the kitchen door all day. Ladies from church bringing over casseroles and baked goods, saying they heard she had company and wanted to drop a little something off for her guests. Whether it was Jud running his mouth or all the work being done on the property Emmett’s visit was the talk of the town. When Maybelle Culpepper stopped off with a plate full of red velvet squares and said her boy Calvin had driven her over Aunt Lula had insisted they stay for dinner.

Emmett mixed up some olive oil and baking soda to remove the dried paint on his skin and sent HD with it to shower in the upstairs washroom, thankful he’d brought a change of clothes. Calvin Culpepper was as charming as ever and still looked like he could win the four hundred meter free style. Emmett was concerned how wary Rory seemed of all the men in the room, like he was waiting to be swatted or worse. Charlene was so quiet and skittish; she’d been a cheerleader, only three years ahead of Emmett and always so full of life. Emmett couldn’t shake the disquiet he felt from her behavior and from the subjects of conversation that everyone seemed to be avoiding. Alvin Henley had been a year ahead of her in school and now drove a fuel truck, servicing many of the gas stations in the area. When Emmett was a teen Al could always be counted on to jeer and taunt him for not being tough enough, but he didn’t seem the sort to go after his wife or kid.

“So,” Maybelle Culpepper said as they sat at the dining room table and passed around the ham, baked beans, scalloped potatoes and greens, “What is it you do, Mr. Davis.”

HD said, “General contracting, I specialize in refurbishing and repurposing buildings.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Maybelle said.

Calvin said, “You buy property, fix it up and sell it, right?”

HD smiled and said, “Pretty much, sometimes I keep it and rent it out.”

Emmett had a suspicion that young Calvin wasn’t as straight as he claimed to be and seemed to be more than a bit interested in Emmett’s man. He asked, “And what do you do, Calvin?”

“I’m a manufacturer’s rep for ‘Black Diamond Equipment’,” Calvin said with a winning smile.

His mother laughed and said, “The things boys get up to a college. You wouldn’t think a Mississippi boy would take to skiing but he loves it. Of course I never know where he’s off to, every weekend he’s on a different ski slope wining and dining some sporting goods chain; but it suits him. And what about you, Emmett, you’ve been a big city boy a while now, how’s that going.”

Emmett blushed and smile before saying, “I’ve recently decided to start my own business; events coordination, parties, weddings and such.”

HD looked at him with such pride and Aunt Lula clapped and said, “That’s my boy, oh Em I wish your grandmother could see you now.”

After dinner, HD changed back into his work clothes and was back outside, by the time Em finished up the dishes and brought Maybelle and Aunt Lula a fresh pot of tea, Calvin had disappeared. Taking a jug of sweet tea out to make sure Huxley didn’t overdo; he found Calvin at the base of the ladder watching HD’s ass as he painted the fascia.

“You don’t ski at all?” Calvin asked.

Huxley said, “I’m six foot seven, I’m not really built for it.”

“Honey,” Em called, “just in case Calvin hadn’t figured out this was his man, “Pace yourself, I brought you some iced tea.” He then watched as HD did something with his feet, and rode the outside of the ladder to the ground without touching the rungs. Emmett had seen him do a similar trick at the lofts but it always put his heart in his mouth. “Huxley!”

“I’m fine, babe,” he said and kissed him hard and fast before taking the jug and drinking directly from it.

Emmett huffed and smiled before saying, “I also brought you a glass but apparently you don’t need it.”

HD waved over to Whitey Bailey who was shuffling down the lane. Old Mr. Bailey was a contemporary of Aunt Lula and was her nearest neighbor. Emmett gathered he’d stopped in his travels to chat with Huxley. He was now openly gaping having apparently seen the kiss. If Jud hadn’t spread the nature of their relationship all over town, Mr. Bailey would. Suddenly Emmett was glad they were overnighting in Jackson. Huxley said softly, “You alright?”

“I think you’re underestimating the dangers around here,” Emmett said with barely a glance at Calvin.

HD nodded and said, “Fair enough, but in my experience its easier for some people to intimidate kids like your nephew or his mom than it is to face a grown man who just might fight back. They’ll talk about you for months, but they don’t have the balls to come at a grown man who knows his mind.”

“It doesn’t matter how big you are if they come from behind with a tire iron,” Emmett said.

HD leaned in and kissed him again and said, “That’s why I have you to watch my back.” After a moment he started back up the ladder and about half way up said, “Honey, go check the attic, I think the roof might be going bad on the north side.”

“We can’t replace the roof, Huxley. We’re not going to be here long enough,” Em said. “Leave it for Judson to do.”

HD snorted and hollered down, “Judson couldn’t find his ass with both hands and a flashlight. Oh, hey Jud, we were just talking about you.”

Emmett ushered Jud and Calvin back inside. He left Calvin with the ladies and hustled Jud, after he shoved a red velvet square into his mouth, up to the attic. There were signs of water damage and Emmett and his brother spend the rest of the afternoon; first taking down the bed in the guest room and leaning the mattress, box springs and bedframe off in one corner before empting most of the attic into the guest room. Some of what was too damage to save had to be thrown out but they managed to store most of it there in a manner that Aunt Lula could look though the boxes without any heavy lifting.

Emmett said he’d go though it with her latter and suggested dividing up some of the old pictures to give to the rest of the family instead of letting them up in that hot attic. Most of the fabrics were disintegrating with age and some of the furniture was as well. But HD suggested the shed would be dryer than the attic at least until the roof was replaced.

Judson had taken HD’s poke about him not being useful to heart and was calling round to their other brothers Lewis and Burnett, and the girls’ husbands Charlene’s Al and Patsy’s Buddy and seeing if they could all pitch in and get the roof up on Saturday. Emmett brought him another red velvet square and asked, “isn’t Buddy a veteran?”

“Yeah, why?” Jud asked.

“Home Depot and Lowes both offer ten percent discounts to veterans,” Em said. “I’m willing to pitch in on labor and cost but I can’t afford to cover the whole thing.”

“How much you reckon it’ll be, I can kick in some, but Al’ll act like we’re after blood and Lewis never has any money,” Jud said.

Emmett cocked his head and went into the sewing room that used to be a nursery and unhooked the screen. He called, “Huxley, what’ll it cost to replace the roof?”

“Well,” he said from the ladder fifteen feet away, “that’ll depends, Jud with you?”

Judson stuck his head out next to Em and said, “Yeah?”

“This has around five hundred pounds or more of slate tiles we have to rip off, there somewhere we can toss those we won’t get fined for doing it or will we need to pay to dispose of it all?” HD asked.

“Yeah, we can have Al haul ‘em somewhere, Lord knows he won’t kick in any hard cash,” Jud said.

HD rested his brush on the can he’d hooked to a ladder rung and said, “Well, I ain’t seen it but what’s your estimate on this leak? Do we have to replace all the wood or can we just pull out a couple boards and replace them?”

“It’s just the one corner but we’ll probably need to take out most of that side,” Jud said. “I never done this before.”

“Let me take a look,” HD said, and did that thing with the ladder that always stopped Emmett’s heart.

After venturing up and cyphering it out on a piece of foolscap they determined they needed four large eight by four panels, there was a brief argument about the underlay when, Buddy who would be picking up the order in the morning wanted to go with the cheapest and HD wanted to go with the most expensive. It was only about a hundred and twenty dollars different but as HD pointed out saving money on your roofing material just got you back out on the roof that much sooner. While Buddy, how worked with HVAC argued from Jud’s phone on speaker with HD, Emmett cut in and reminded Huxley that Mississippi didn’t have the sever icing he needed to consider for Pennsylvania, but he also reminded Buddy that this was the Gulf Coast and he was the family member most likely to be called if the roof leaked. They compromised on a better underlay but not the one HD usually used, which would have had to have been shipped to the store anyway. They determined that they could get the four by eight panels, the underlay, fourteen packets of asphalt shingles in gray and enough ridge shingles for all the gables and roofing nails for just under seven hundred dollars. HD didn’t figure in Buddy’s discount because he had no idea what Mississippi sales tax was like. If all six of the kids chipped in it would be about a hundred and twenty each, and if ‘someone’ didn’t it would be one forty. So they phoned the order into Home Depot, since Emmett had left his laptop in Pittsburgh and Jud would pick it up with Buddy bright and early tomorrow morning.

Emmett had dreaded seeing all his siblings en masse but figured it would only be at church service Sunday morning where they were usually on their best behavior. The idea of having them milling around here all day Saturday felt like juggling nitroglycerin. HD went back out to finish painting the fascia. Jud started calling some friend to see if he could call in some favors as far as labor went.

+

To Vic it was obvious that the thing Hunter liked about the weekends was that due to the tips being better Debbie often worked double shifts which meant he wasn’t roused out of bed at the crack of dawn. And despite not having school himself, the girls were always up to do something fun on the weekends; however not so much this weekend.

“I don’t need anything,” Hunter said, “Vic, help me out. I have more clothes than I’ve ever owned in my life, perhaps combined. Is Paul going? I don’t think I should be the only guy, it could damage my psyche.”

And that was how Vic ended up at Waterfront in Homestead shopping with six teenagers, five of them girls. So far they’d been mostly using Hunter as a pack mule. Vic had somehow dodged carrying detail, perhaps out of respect for his age. They were in Macy’s when Vic excused himself to go to the restroom leaving his own bags with the girls. Hunter caught up as he was heading down the corridor and said, “Do not leave me alone with them, especially near the perfume counters.”

Hunter bolted ahead down the corridor and as Vic entered the restroom the door to a stall was swing shut. Vic stopped to wash his hands first, and to wait since the only other person was at the urinals. Once the guy stepped away Vic stepped up and unzipped. The guy instead of washing his hands and leaving came back and started checking Vic out. Hunter came out of the stall, washed his hands and after looking over at them said, “Mister, you are way too close to him, I got five girls, one has a rape whistle and another has a lawyer on speed dial. Back off or this day is not going to end how you planned.”

“This isn’t any concern of yours kid,” The guy said.

Hunter opened the door to the corridor and yelled, “September, Daphne, get security.”

Immediately a loud whistle blew repeatedly and a girl’s voice started yelling, “Security! Security!”

A thunder of footsteps coming toward them had Vic hastily tucking himself away just before Daphne, September, Monica and Brittney poured into the men’s room. Tracy apparently still was outside blowing her whistle.

“I’m calling the cops,” September said brandishing her phone.

Daphne had hers at her ear and said, “I’m calling Mason.”

“I’m going to call Tracy’s dad,” Brittney said and began to dig in her large handbag.

Monica and Hunter said, “Why?”

“He’s the scariest,” Brittney said.

“I am a cop,” the guy said and showed his badge.

Monica burst into tears and said, “That’s even worse. Sep, call Action News, he’s a cop and he’s soliciting minors in bathrooms. Tell them to bring a camera crew.”

“Wait until you meet their fathers,” Vic said to the cop.

+

Emmett had had them stop at the grocery again he had picked up a turkey in addition to the ham the day before with eyes on it for Sunday dinner but with all of them descending on Aunt Lula figured they’d cook it today. But he grabbed twenty pounds of potatoes and some apples suitable for pies. HD grabbed a couple dozen eggs, several pounds of butter and cheese. Emmett came back to the cart with four loaves of bread and looked at the cheese and then questioningly at HD who said, “Sandwiches. You can’t have ham sandwiches without cheese.”

“And mustard,” Emmett said.

“Eww, no ketchup,” HD said getting an ‘ew’ in response from Emmett, “I’m from Pittsburgh we put ketchup on everything.”

So after grabbing six large bags of ice, knowing Aunt Lula’s 1950s Frigidaire was not going to be up to making all the iced drinks they would need that day, they were back on the road.

So they arrived loaded with food HD tested the paint on the front porch and removed the clothes props he’d used to barricade it from being walked on. Putting the wooden poles back by the clothes line where he’d found them.

He headed up with a hammer and a pry bar to start removing the slate shingles, after cautioning Emmett regarding which side of the house he’d be tossing them to the ground on. Aunt Lula was already up and bustling about they had coffee and planned out what they’d be preparing today and put out all the sweets that had been dropped off the day before and filled the coffee service and put a fresh pot onto brew until the other got there. Emmett set up some chairs in the guest room and a notebook and labels. He was hoping to keep Lula from overworking herself, maybe have Charlene sit with her and sort through the boxes while Patsy and Burnett’s Alma saw to the cooking.

Burnett was the oldest and Emmett had never seen him as anything but a tormentor. Oddly he figured Burnett saw himself as doing his brotherly duty in trying to toughen Emmett up. But there were twelve years between them and they would likely never be close. Alma was a sweet thing with a ready smile but had always struck Emmett, at least when he was twelve, as condescending. Ironically they were like a straight Brian and Lindsay, Burnett had a sarcastic cruel streak, thinking he was doing people a service by pointing out their short comings and Alma used her pretty ways to both sooth the wake Burnett left behind his careless way of plowing through life and deflect blame from herself when she used him to get her way.

The sound of slate hitting the ground had been steady for over an hour before Buddy and Jud pulled up with the supplies.

They came in and got coffee, Jud bitching because the others weren’t there yet. Buddy offered, “The trim looks fine, Miss Lula.”

“That boy’s a born worker,” she said.         

Emmett stepped outside as they were bound to gossip about him and called, “Huxley, come down and get something to eat.” When HD materialized moments later, Em was thankful he had missed how he got down, he said, “You sure got a lot done.”

“Taking it offs the easy part,” HD said shucking his gloves, “saw they came with the supplies.”

HD was introduced to Buddy and later when Jud headed up the ladder he called, “Careful on the west side that’s where it’s all rotted.”

“It’s sweet you’re worried about me,” Jud called back.

HD growled, “I’m worried about losing half my work crew when you puncture you femoral artery you ass.”

HD rigged ropes and pulleys and had several packets of the shingles and one of the boards up before Burnett and Lewis arrived. Al would probably be last. He said he’d had late deliveries the night before. While Patsy and Alma helped in the kitchen, Emmett made polite inquiries about their families.

They had three sides of the roof stripped before Lewis or Burnett set foot on a ladder. Emmett had brought out some pitchers of lemonade and sweet tea and Burnett made a crack about him saying out from underfoot and getting back inside with the women. HD did the ladder thing within inches of Burnett and scared the life out of him. After exchanging a look with Jud who was looking down and laughing HD said, “we might want to keep the weight down on the roof,” as he glanced at Burnett’s expanding middle, “why don’t you boys get started on clean up. Come on, darlin, I need your help removing the rotten boards.”

HD removed his shoes as he entered the house and carried them in his hand they both headed up to the attic. As they reached the second floor Emmett said wryly, “you need my help with construction?”

“I always need you,” HD said and kissed him. Emmett put his arms around HD’s neck and pressed close, feeling HD’s free hand rest on his hips.

“Oh! My,” Charlene said, coming out of the guest room. She blushed heatedly looking around wildly and whispered, “Don’t let Al see. Please, it’ll go bad.”

For once HD didn’t growl or anything except nod and Emmett dragged him up the rest of the way into the attic.

Before they started to remove the water damaged boards HD looked gravely at Emmett and said, “I think you sister needs to utilize the widow option.”

“I don’t think my family has that,” Em said, thinking of Maureen Davis and the likelihood she’d ever been afraid of her husband.

Huxley knocked on the bad boards. Emmett was sure it was mostly to insure Jud or one of his other numbskull brothers weren’t on the other side. HD fit his safety glasses back on his eyes and then used his pry bar to rip down the damaged part of the roof. Once it was all either pushed out the hole or in small pieces on the attic floor HD pulled himself up and waived Buddy and Jud to move the new wood over into place. Emmett was aware they could hear every word when Huxley said, “All I’m saying, honey, is before we leave take Charlene aside and explain the benefit of buying some chicken parts and letting them sit out on the counter for a couple days. Cook it up using his favorite spices and then let nature take its course. No one ever investigates food poisoning as murder, hell he probably has a good life insurance policy at work.”

Buddy laughed but Jud squawked and said, “She can’t kill him.

“She shouldn’t have to, if her brothers were real men he’d have been cut up into hand size pieces and fed to fish,” HD said. “You got some asswipe beating your sister and her kid and you’re going to what, practice looking shocked so when you attend one of their funerals you think everybody will think you didn’t know. Not only does everyone who’s stopped by here know it’s happening, they know you’re okay with it; that you choose to do nothing.”

“Huxley, I’m begging you, do not make me have to try to bail you out of a Mississippi jail,” Emmett said.

HD said, “You have Marc on my speed dial, just say ‘bring lawyers, guns and money’ he’ll drop everything, my brother may be an ass, but I can count on him.” HD leveled a glare at Jud and asked, “So are Bernard and Lewis on the lets not kill Al bandwagon too.”

“It’s Burnett,” Emmett said, “and I wouldn’t want to speak for him but it’s safe to say he doesn’t want to commit murder either.”

+

Justin had chosen to wear his tuxedo shirt, studs and vivid blue vest with his burgundy leather pants. He was pretty sure it was a combination that only Emmett should have been able to get away with. Brian tucked his tongue in his cheek as he leaned in against the doorway frame in monochrome Armani. It was light grey almost silver today and softened his presence so he was not the predatory sex shark but faded into the background as much a man who looked like Brian could; at least until he moved. Years of teasing Brian about how someone so graceful at dancing ballroom made club dancing look doing math equations couldn’t dissuade from the fact that when Brian walked across a room, all eyes were pulled to him.

The opening was everything Justin had expected. He’d gone into San Francisco with experience from his future days in New York galleries, but now after both that and the Pittsburgh launch he knew almost every question that would be asked and was hard pressed to keep from sounding bored. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want the attention but so much pointless over-intellectualizing the subject matter until all the passion was ironed out of it seemed to defeat the purpose of art in general.

When he finally caught up with Brian they slipped off to the employee lounge and while Justin grazed at the meatballs on toothpicks Brian caught him up on the news from Pittsburgh. While Justin had been off meeting the Governor of Arizona, seriously, Brian had touched base with Ted to make sure his empire hadn’t crashed while he’d been sunbathing.

“What does he mean she got the sign?” Justin asked. “She didn’t die until 2008, same as Ben, and someone else from back in Hazlehurst, remember. Emmett was devastated and he said, ‘these things come in threes’ just a couple days before we lost Ben.”

Brian said, “Yeah, a nephew or something, well I don’t know, I think it’s easier to believe she’s wrong than that something we did in Pittsburgh is causing her to die early.”

“You ever get really creeped out by all this,” Justin said, hugging Brian and resting his head on his shoulder.

Brian shrugged only the shoulder Justin wasn’t leaning his head on and said, “I just try not to think about it. There’s no way we can’t change anything. It’s impossible. So all we can do is deal with what happens. That’s all anyone can do. Ted said Mel is thinking of having a kid. This is years before she had JR. If she has one now will it be JR or will she not have JR at all? And even if she went in the same day to be fertilized how could we guarantee it would be the same egg and the same sperm? I think the only reason Gus is Gus is this all happened immediate after he was conceived. From that instance on, every coin toss was potentially different.”

“Thank god we’re alone,” Justin sighed, “or they’d lock us both up.”

+

There was still a lot of clean up left to do but the roof was finished in one day. Burnett and Lewis were filthy from loading slate into to the back of Al’s truck and he’d had to make three trips to wherever he was dumping it. They’d broke for dinner at midday and all eaten out in the yard, the food buffet style on the picnic table and seated around on benches, garden walls and the kitchen chairs brought outside. Lula was tickled to have all of them around like the old days and everyone tried to remain on their best behavior, at least in front of her. Though there had been a suspicious lack of kids. Possibly due to the dangers of the job but Emmett wondered if the parents among his siblings were just keeping them away from his bad influence.

Al was shorter than Emmett remembered him or maybe he hadn’t had his full growth when he’d left home. Given HD had had a pry bar hanging from his belt most of the day, Al was giving them both a wide berth and Burnett was either too tired from all the physical labor or had grown some sense because he was oddly tolerable. Al packed up Charlene around five and they drove off, much to Lula objection. After they left Lula went inside to start putting up the food.

“Think they’ll be at church tomorrow?” Alma asked.

Patsy looked uncomfortable and started clearing away the dishes. Emmett instead of helping her took a seat much closer to HD than he had been all day. HD was glaring after Al’s truck like he wanted to drag Al behind it. Burnett meandered over toward where they sat sharing one end of a bench and Jud exchanged a glance with Buddy. Lewis snickered said, “Guess we won’t be seeing you at church tomorrow, Em.”

“I don’t think lightening will strike us, if we take Miss Lula tomorrow, or were you planning on driving her Lewy?” HD said and put his arm around Emmett.

Lewis might have been next to the oldest but he was the shortest of the Honeycutt boys and although he looked like he wanted to object, he waited and watched Burnett. Emmett chuckled, if his brothers thought HD would back down from their pushing, well they’d never seen him on the ice. “We fly back Monday morning,” Emmett said, “we’ll be glad to pick Aunt Lula up for church in the morning.”

Burnett exchanged a look with Alma and said, “Now Emmett, you boys got nothing to prove.”

“Burnett, Lula called, she told me she got the sign. I came to spend time with her, that includes going to Sunday service,” Emmett said. “If you and Alma are afraid you’re standing in the congregation will drop because a couple of queers listen to a sermon you just tell your friends you ran us back out of town when we leave Monday.”

“Emmett that’s not what we meant-” Alma started.

HD unhooked the pry bar from his belt with his free hand and used the narrow uncurved end to scrap some of the slate embedded in the tread of his boots and said, “Listen, Burnett. Why don’t you spend less time worrying about Emmett? I never laid a hand on him in anger and I can swear I never will. Why don’t you turn that good Christian concern toward Charlene and her kid; because none of you seem to care about that.”

“Alma, I saw you and Pasty exchange looks and then look away,” Emmett said. “None of you are acknowledging the bruises, the long sleeves she wears or how scared she is that something’ll set him off. What will all of you say to each other when she or that boy end up dead?”

“We’re out of here Monday but Emmett doesn’t want the next time he hears from you to be someone calling him for one of their funerals. And if I could see this within an hour of meeting your sister, then there isn’t anyone in this town or at that church that doesn’t know it’s going on,” HD said.

Judson chimed in, “Well give us a solution besides killing him that will help.”

“No one said anything about killing him,” Burnett bristled.

HD rolled his eyes and grimaced at Jud before saying, “Well does he listened to any of you? Is his dad alive? Does he listen to your pastor, would he be worried if he thought his boss would find out? Beating people is a crime. Would he clean up his act if you brought in social services or the police? Given no one wants to just get just rid of him.”

“No one wants to go to jail for killing him,” Emmett said, “But Charlene needs an out if she decides to leave him; a way to feed herself and Rory and the twins, I’m sure Aunt Lula would let her stay here but that won’t do any good if he comes around, and they’re all unprotected.”

There was no easy solution but maybe getting them all to acknowledge the elephant in the room or admit they knew and couldn’t play dumb when a tragedy struck would at least get them to try to help.

+

The cop had backed down pretty fast in the face of seven people loudly telling store security he was a creepy pervert and being informed that regardless of him not pressing any charges someone from Mason Waynewright’s office would be down to his precinct take his statement of the incident and it may end up on his record since the minor he’d traumatized was part of an ongoing investigation. Vic told Mason he’d bring Hunter in Monday to get their statements on file. The girls were advised to go to school and that since they showed up on the scene after the cop had started to be creepy that it was Vic and Hunter who were the ones who needed to be questioned.

+

Sunday Justin and Brian slept until almost check out time and loaded their luggage into the car before driving to some of the local galleries. Justin was less worried about missing school and more worried Brian would use up all his time off before the spring thaw. They lazed about and had a real southwestern lunch at a little mom and pop place that hung art for sale by local artists on the walls; before flying home Sunday evening.

Given the time change Justin expected Monday to be brutal but really was thinking he should quit school and Brian should quit his job and they should just travel.

+

HD had packed a suit, probably because he expected to go to a funeral. Emmett tied his tie for him. The suit and tie were both dark gray, Emmett remembered putting them together when they hung HD’s wardrobe so he knew what tie would go with it if he needed to wear it and Emmett wasn’t near. His shirt was a crisp white. It was probably good that the suit was a bit dated; too high fashion in Hazlehurst sent the wrong message. His own suit fit and was brown. He too chose to pair it with a white shirt. His tie was a red and brown print that matched his pocket square.

“You look very handsome,” HD said. “We should dress up more.”

“I will never be able to thank you for what you’ve done. Being here for me,” Emmett felt himself tear up.

HD kissed him and said, “They’re family. It’s tricky finding the balance between them mattering too much or not enough; a lifetime’s work. That’s your roots, no matter where you live, you take that with you. They’re not all bad, hell even Jud’s growing on me.”

They headed to Hazlehurst one last time for their visit, each taking changes of clothing because HD may look good in a suit but he couldn’t be expected to wear one all day. Lula was tickled to have two handsome men escorting her to services and said so often. Emmett’s mother Carol was there and had to have heard though the town chatter about the roof raising at Lula’s the day before but had been remained absent. Emmett figured she was determined to stay away for fear it looked like she were approving of Emmett, either coming home or coming home with a man, Emmett wasn’t sure.

Charlene was there with Al and after services all four Honeycutt Brothers escorted Al back inside to have a word with the pastor. Patsy and Alma hustled Charlene off and HD was left with Lula to greet and be introduced to all her friends. Emmett remember Justin saying ‘I owe him so many blow jobs’ in regard to Brian enduring his art openings and figured he was indebted quit a few to HD given the last thing he saw before going in the church with Al was his mother reluctantly joining Lula.

Once they spelled out how things better change and left Al with Pastor Morris they headed back outside. Some of the congregation had disbursed but for the older crowed like Lula and to an extent their mother this was a social time and they didn’t run off but lingered all though the parking area near cars or on the sidewalk. The first thing Emmett heard as he and Jud walked over to where Lula and their mother were standing with HD was old Whitey Bailey saying, “I saw them kissing, bold as brass right in your back yard, Lula.”

Em saw his mama looked to die of shame but Lula said, “Yes and they kiss when they’re doing the dishes too. Ain’t nothing wrong with it, Wilford. Don’t think I don’t remember you kissed Ennis Parry on a dare when you was nine years old. My body may be old by my mind is as sound as it ever was.”

“Aunt Lula,” Carol Honeycutt said, “we are on church property.”

HD stepped away from Carol as if she’d give him a rash and ambled over toward Jud and Em. He said just loud enough to be heard by them all, “You wanna kiss me on church property?”

“It’s a sin,” Carol spit out.

HD looked her square in the eye and said, “So’s breaking the first commandment.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carol said.

HD said, “Every sect, from Catholic to Baptists, Episcopalians to Methodist, Presbyterians to Mormons all think they speak for God but can’t agree on anything. Do you believe that God is infinite and infallible?”

“Of course,” she said with anger.

HD said, “So where is it you think God made the mistake? Giving you a child? The child he chose to give you? God doesn’t make mistakes. Your son’s a good man.”

“The bible says” Carol started.

HD cut in, “have no God before me. When I was a kid, just learning the commandments, I thought that one was selfish. If he’s God, why would he care? If he is the alpha and omega, the beginning and end, if nothing would exist without him, why care at all and if he did care, why put that one first. Sounds selfish, sounds like a kid saying you have to love me best.”

“But I’m older, wiser, have watched my fellow man do some pretty bad stuff.” HD shoved his hands in his pockets and continued, “Time and miles have made me realize that that one, the most important one isn’t for him. It’s for us. He knows how screwed up we are. How we need to have everyone agree that whatever way we live is the only way to live and how when we can’t convince others that we’re right we find it handy to draft God to our team. To say our way is God’s way. Over the years good Christians who have forgotten that one have used God to sanction genocide successful and attempted multiple times. If you want to cast out the gifts God gave you for whatever reason, do it; but own it as your own pride or hate or fear. Don’t blame God, at least not on the church steps.”

“Satan can use the word of God to turn people from the path of righteousness,” she said lifting her chin in triumph.

HD smiled and said, “He can also use your own pride to blind you to the light of God. Mrs. Honeycutt, this is one where I don’t really want to be right. I’m prepared to go to my maker, secure in his forgiveness for any sins I’ve committed. I expect there to be a few awkward questions but I’m confident that an infinite and all seeing God will understand the mistakes I’ve made. You on the other hand are going to meet your maker and gleefully tell him you cast out one of your children, and I am sure he will forgive you, as long as you’re willing to admit you were wrong. That’s the rub isn’t it you have to admit it, that was Faust’s downfall. I’ll freely admit to loving your son and you can admit to not loving him and we’ll both wait to be forgiven. Miss Lula, you ready to head back?”

Emmett gave his aunt his arm and escorted her to the truck before helping her up into it. He turned his back on his mother as she’d turned hers on him so many years ago but he was tense as a bow string listening to hear if she followed or called out. She didn’t. Nothing had changed. Except this time instead of being cast out, he was walking away.

Jud went home and changed but showed up shortly after Patsy and Buddy and the girls all still in their Sunday finery. Burnett and Alma and their teenaged son, Whitney, who looked at Emmett like he was a zoo exhibit until HD came down in jeans in work boots after changing himself and glared at him. Jud went out back with Whitney to fire up the grill and they pulled out some of the casseroles that had been dropped off to accompany the burgers and hot dogs.

Emmett stood on the back stoop watching his siblings, all grown up now, and their kids and remembered it hadn’t all been bad growing up. It hadn’t all been good either but he’d survived. HD came up behind him and looped a one armed hug from behind, offering him a beer and holding his own in his other hand.

“You know, if we got Marc and Jud together, they could probably level a city block without half trying,” HD said. Just as he finished the flames in the grill shot up, catching a small ornamental tree on fire, nearly blinding Whitney and probably making all the meat currently on the grill now taste like ashes.

Emmett sighed and felt Alma’s eyes on them and said, “You saw that coming?”

“Pretty much from the moment you said ‘Jud this is my beau, HD Davis,” He said with a smile.

Emmett rolled his eyes and looked right at Alma and said, “Yes these are my people this is where I come from.”

“Jud, you ass, do you not see the tree on fire behind you?” HD hollered and then added softer to Emmett, “Notice how none of the rest of them want him to live though the day?”

+

The room was darkened but not pitch black, the slides were projected on an old fashion screen instead of a wall and from a slide projector instead of a PowerPoint. Seated in the back of the room, Hunter exchanged a long suffering look with Vic as Debbie said, “Would you cut it out?”

HD and Emmett had followed Brian and Justin’s example each couple on opposite ends of the couch. Both couples were ignoring the endless pictures of Michael and David and kissing. Ted was sitting on love seat with Mel and Lindsay who seemed more interested in the boys making out than the slides of Michael and David in couple poses.

Michael said, “Ma! You’re interrupting.”

“I hate it when couples make out in front of me,” Debbie said, causing Hunter to snicker.

Brian murmured, “It’s French, we’re Frenching.”

Michael spoke loudly over them, “And with that, David and Michael begin a duet through Paris.” The last slide showed the word ‘Fin’ and Michael read, “Fin. That means the end.”

Hunter said, “No shit,” causing Michael to glare at him.

“Bon; that means ‘good’,” Emmett said.

As the lights came up, David added, “Well I hope everyone wasn't too bored.”

“No, are you kidding? I haven't been that entertained since Gandhi,” Ted said.

Debbie gushed, “Oh, it just looked like the trip of a lifetime.”

“Yeah it sure felt that long,” Brian groused and received a commiserating head tilt from HD.

Michael prattled on, “The thing you need to know about Paris is not dining at Louis-Carton or shopping at the Rue de Suplice. It's the little things, like sharing a baguette while strolling sur la Seine.”

“That sure de what, honey?” Debbie asked.

Michael said, “The Seine, mother.”

Hunter snorted and said, “It's a river.”

“Thanks, honey,” Debbie said.

Michael asked, “Would anyone more vin rouge?”

“Lucy, you wouldn't know the difference between vin rouge and Listerine,” Ted said to Em who grinned and nodded.

Emmett asked, “Look, all I know is did you meet Catherine Deneuve?”

“Oh god, I love her,” said Ted.

Michael said, “No, but we've met these wonderful couple in Versailles.”

Brian said, “Let me guess: Louis and Marie.”

David said quite seriously, “No, Jean-Pierre and Yvette.”

HD blinked looked at Brian and facepalmed before leaning in and whispering something in Emmett’s ear causing him to giggle.

Michael added, “They had the most fabulous maison in the 16th. Oh, try the Brie.”

“It tastes like cum! Where is the Cheddar?” Debbie said.

The evening wrapped up not long after as Michael’s putting on airs ceased to be amusing. Debbie, Vic and Hunter left in one car and the girls in another. Ted was the last to make his goodbyes and join them as they stopped by HD’s truck.

“I’m starving,” HD said. Justin made a noise of agreement and Brian snaked a hand inside his unfastened car coat and pinched his middle causing him to swat him away.

Emmett said, “I could use more than cheese myself. Teddy you want to come?”

“Where to?” Ted said.

HD said “’Gullifty's’ should still have the kitchen open if we go now.”

“Yes! Dessert, Brian come on even you’ll have one of ‘Gullifty's’ desserts,” Justin said, burrowing into Brian to conserve body heat.

Brian smirked and said, “Meet you there?” They all separated and headed for their vehicles. David’s place was in Squirrel Hill not far from Murray Avenue so they should get there to order some appetizers before the kitchen closed.

They closed the kitchen with an array of appetizers and desserts, Brian left a big tip as the five of them had conversed until the chairs were up on the other tables. They had all wanted to hear about Emmett’s family since other than the great weather Phoenix had been just a routine business trip. They were understandably glad his Aunt Lula hadn’t died but when he mentioned the situation with his sister, Brian and Justin exchanged a look wondering if that was who had died shortly before the aunt last time and wonder how anything was different this time.


	55. I'm just a sweet transvestite

 

 

If Justin thought getting out of bed was hard the Monday morning when they’d come home from Phoenix he was in no way prepared to be swamped by the girls the instant Brian stopped the jeep in front of St. James. Even Brian tried to get them to calm down and speak rationally. Justin wasn’t sure how five girls could come up with so many conflicting stories of one event. Brian was just confused by what all of them had been doing in the men’s room at the mall. Justin was sure that was because Brian always assumed that all the men’s rooms were his and safe for sexual encounters so the thought of five teenaged girls bursting in and blowing the whistle – not figuratively – was rather disconcerting. Justin wasn’t sure if Hunter had been molested or if some cop had been cruising Vic or if they thought Vic had been molested but was sure it involved calling a high priced lawyer from the men’s room on a weekend which made him glad it was the nonprofit paying Mason’s bills now and not him.

Once Brian drove off they all made their way inside, out of the weather, to their spot where the guys waited guarding backpacks and purses. If Brittney’s purse got any bigger it wouldn’t pass the requirements for carryon luggage at an airline. Justin sat down and thought longingly of the Starbucks he’d left in the cup holder of the jeep in all the excitement. St. James really needed a coffee station. Maybe if the alliance was an official club, after the board meeting, they could set one up as a fund raiser. It was practically legalized drug dealing and lord knew the students, here at least, had too much ready cash to not make it profitable.

“Are you listening,” September said.

Justin said, “I’m trying to but I’m undercaffeinated. Why were you all in the men’s room again?” September huffed and stomped her foot before throwing her hands up him and looking to Daphne as if to say ‘witness what I have to deal with’ so Justin turned to Niles and Mike, Paul being busy canoodling with Tracy, and said, “Are you guys suddenly feeling like you should check the stalls and watch over your shoulders every time you use the urinal?”

“Justin that’s not the point,” Daphne said.

He looked at her, smiled, stood up and opened his arms. She came over and hugged him, then he said, “You’re sitting quietly, in the ladies room between third and fourth period. It’s suddenly too quiet; you wonder why you don’t hear the shuffling of students in the hallways going to class. The door to your stall flies open, five guys are there and one,” Justin looked over at Tracy, “is blowing a whistle, one is crying and one is waving a phone around threating to call your mother. What are you planning to do next time you have to go?”

“That’s what you’re focused on?” Daphne said into his chest, “This guy was in there, waiting for them. What if one of them had been alone?”

Justin hated having to mess with Daphne’s world view, or any of the girls. Most of them thought the world might not be fair, but that it should be, even September who pretended to be so jaded. “Daph, it was a sting. No one was looking to molest anyone; the cop was looking to entrap some homo who stopped by looking for a hook up. Cops do it all the time, certain places get a reputation for hook ups, some straight guy gets uncomfortable or a bitter fag calls it in to get back at an ex. No matter where each of you go to school, the gay guys will know a place they can head if they’re horny where other guys are looking to get laid. It’s not just clubs and bars or baths. Some areas, it’s not that their hate-filled it’s just they don’t have the population to support a gay bar so it’s the third floor bathroom of a department store, or a certain bathroom on campus or in a library. They have to be public places because for closeted guys there has to be a legitimate reason, besides hooking up, for them to be there.”

“Being gay isn’t against the law,” Tracy said. “Why would cops waste resources staking out a place if there isn’t a crime being committed?”

“Having sex in public is against the law,” Justin said, and oh was he a law breaker. “If that cop had been alone with Vic, and no I don’t think he’d have tried to entrap Hunter, he could have said Vic exposed himself, or offered him money or anything from lewd behavior to public indecency. I mean, on behalf of those of us who use the men’s room on a regular bases, it’s pretty hard to do without taking out your dick but it would depend on who the judge was or if the guy who was charged was willing to fight it on whether or not the charges would get dismissed.”

“Nobody would have paid this guy to have sex with them,” Sep said.

Justin sighed, because that really hadn’t been his point. He said, “How was the weather?”

“Cold,” Monica said, “it’s always cold in February.”

“And if Hunter hadn’t been found by you guys, if his mom was still sending him to get money, where would he go, out of the cold to find Johns,” Justin said.

“Bathrooms,” Monica said her eyes widened. She looked like she might start crying but just whispered, “I’m really glad we found him.”

“Yeah,” Justin said, “Don’t tell him, but me too.”

“I now know more about gay prostitution than I ever wanted to know,” Mike mumbled.

“Did we ever take you for a disease panel?” Justin asked.

Paul laughed at the look on Mike’s face and Niles said, “I think we have to wait until the results of the board meeting on Thursday before we take anyone else in.”

“Friday’s actually not a busy day at the clinic, should we plan on it immediately after school? We could hand out flyers Friday during the day with times and directions and offer rides to everyone who wants to go but can’t get there on their own, it would fit into my membership drive plans,” September said.

Justin briefly visualized Mr. Hunt’s head exploding when he read that students were being directed to have STD screenings run. There was an image of St. James you didn’t see in the brochures. It was kind of amusing that they all thought the club had a chance in hell but he would let Hunt crush their spirits. Instead he said, “I put something together for you if you can get copies made.”

+

“Okay,” Brian said, “You three, give me this fucking ‘thinking shoe’ and try not to make it as unappealing as the ugly overcoat ad.”

Good old Kip, Brian had completely wiped that douche from his memory. Hadn’t the ugly shoe campaign happened earlier the last time? Once the three stooges cleared out, his cell rang and since it was Justin Brian took the call. Justin updated him on what had happened with Vic and Hunter while they’d been relaxing in the Arizona sunshine, having sorted through the girls hysterical ramblings.

Brian had thought they’d dodged that one; it had happened much earlier and come to think of it that had occurred at the downtown store, not out at the Waterfront. It sounded like the same cop. Did he work different places at different times? If so what were the odds it would be Vic caught in his web both times? No wonder the Greeks had had an image of the loom of fate with certain threads being pulled through the tapestries. This had all the earmarks of some hand of a divinity guiding the playing pieces to the board. But if that was so what was the purpose of free will? What was the purpose of putting the same two people, Vic and the cop, in the same situation; what had it accomplished? Well last time this had been a crisis, added stress for Vic’s health, Debbie had stirred up a shit storm, Em had been involved somehow, the end results were that Vic had got off, and hadn’t the cop ended up being investigated? Was that something that needed to occur? What was the phrase from ‘Doctor Who’, a fixed point in time? Damn Mikey for turning him into a geek. But it wasn’t fixed it had occurred at a different time, in a different place, with the same, or almost the same end results. It was creepy and spoke to some sort of intelligence guiding their actions, or at least setting a stage to see what they would all do.

Was this the same intelligence, or God, for lack of any other name that had reset the game and propelled Justin and him into the past? Honestly he needed to be stoned to think this stuff, but in the beginning, when he’d allegedly fainted during Lindsay’s insemination, he’d panicked, then assumed it was some sort of hallucination and then finally back in a loft that seemed sterile without all the things he and Justin had accumulated over a lifetime, and technology that he still found himself cursing because it was so cumbersome, he’d had a very thorough freak out. Afterward, he’d done what he was famous for, adapted, moved on, rose from the ashes and thrived. But this thing with Vic was a game changer. If, no matter what, there were just bullet points, people, events you had to endure and deal with and the end results were the end results, why the hell was he wasting his time playing the game. If he was going to die at forty-five, which now that he’d lived to it didn’t sound old at all, why was he wasting his time. Why not retire at thirty and spend the next fifteen years fucking his gorgeous lover until they both needed a week at the spa to recover, before starting all over again? Why not live on ice cream and bourbon, well not together, instead of a heart healthy diet?

“Mr. Kinney,” Kip said, poking his head into Brian’s office; not the brightest move for a new guy, to not even knock. Brian knew Kip’s end game was to get ahead anyway he could. It was something he could respect and would have if the little shit was willing to back his bravado with actual work.

“Biff,” Brian said, “shouldn’t you be in the art department fleshing out your idea. You can’t trust them to get it right, turn your back and they will do what they want.”

“It’s Kip,” Kip said, “I wanted to know if I could have a minute.”

“Well you’re already in my office, without knocking,” Brian said. “You’re Marty’s nephew you said?”

“No, my dad and him are friends,” Kip said. “I really appreciate him giving me this opportunity.”

“What was it you wanted a minute of my time to do?” Brian said without a trace of innuendo but saw a look of lust in Kip’s eyes. Kip played it coy and started to come around the desk. “Take a seat and get to the point, time is money and I like to make money.”

Kip looked chastised and sat, “I was just hoping to,” and apparently Kip was so sure of his seduction skills he hadn’t prepared any topic. What a fucking amateur. It was embarrassing that this guy had gotten the best of him last time. Well, maybe Kip should benefit from an older and wiser Brian Kinney.

“Thought you’d come in, seduce me and then blackmail me with a sexual harassment case to get a leg up in the industry?” Brian said.

Kip hastily said, “No.”

“I don’t like you,” Brian said, “But, I’ll give you some advice. Don’t think I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart; reliable sources say I don’t have one. Lord knows I don’t feel I owe the ‘gay community’ anything, I should send them a fucking bill for being the best damn homosexual I can be. They’re lucky to have me; I’m a walking advertisement for being an out and proud gay man.”

Kip tried to say something but Brian talked right over him, “But you’re an intern, you’re here to learn from my experience and hopefully not fuck up. So let me explain being gay in the business world. You work ten times harder than your peers just to stay on a level field as them. Straights will think you’re out of touch with their happy breeder lifestyle and can’t possibly sell car seats or feminine hygiene products. Queers are going to be jealous of every success you have, they will try and trip you up and if you succeed will accuse you of selling out and being a hypocrite; while they try to borrow money or get you to contribute to the cause of the week.”

“Your bosses will either be worried everyone else will think you’re sexing them for success or depending on how straight they are, terrified you’ll make a pass. If your boss is queer they will worry your angling for a promotion or planning to sue for sexual harassment,” and the douche had the grace to blush, “and if you are promoted, every whiney little fag will be doing that to you.” Brian said with a shark grin, “Trust me, if I had a dollar for every straight chick or queer boy who apparently thinks a mediocre blow job is worth a corner office I wouldn’t be working for a living.”

“But you’re here, you’re at the top. Everyone says you’re the best,” Kip said all dewy-eyed and adoring.

Brian leaned back in his chair and said, “Because I am. I brought in over seventy percent of the revenue for this firm in 2000. That’s what pays the salaries of the artist and the secretaries, it buys the fancy printers, the software – you’ve been here what, a day?”

“A two weeks,” Kip said.

Brian frowned, “Really? Never mind. All these employees, you’ve seen them in the breakroom, around the watercooler, wandering around chatting about what they did over the weekend. You ever see me before? Any of those places?”

“No,” Kip said, “But you took time off last week.”

Brian said, “I work. When I’m here I work. One guy, seventy percent of the revenue generated by a company with how many employees? Marty’s not out there chatting either, he’s probably responsible for at least twenty five percent of the rest of the revenue and that’s only because he spends the bulk of his time trying to keep the majority of his employees from bumping into the furniture or actively costing the company millions. But he won’t be here long; Marty will be fishing in Florida, if not this year sometime next year. Because people like him, people like me, when we work; we work and hopefully make enough money that when it’s time we play for the rest of our lives.”

“You really think he’ll retire,” Kip asked.

“You’re what, twenty eight?” Brian said.

Kip looked hurt and said, “Twenty four.”

“In your twenties, working sixty hour weeks, spending your weekends romancing clients, it’s all one endless party, but then you start wanting a life for yourself, you want to call the shots,” Brian said, “why the hell should Marty do this day in day out until he’s sixty five. Why should anyone?”

“Is that…” he started and then seemed to work up his nerve and said, “Is that why they say you’ve been taking more time off? Some of the rumors say you’ve been interviewing with other firms.”

“Don’t listen to office gossip, it’s too much of a fag cliché to begin with and your rivals will use it to feed you misinformation,” Brian said. “So to recap, don’t fuck your superiors, don’t fuck your subordinates and don’t trust your peers they are out to fuck you up. Work hard, make obscene amounts of money and get out before you burn out. And do not think all this time you’ve been in here with me that the art twins out there haven’t fucked up your vision, and probably passed your idea off as their own if Marty stopped by and said he liked it.”

Kip popped up from his seat at that and backed toward the door saying, “Ah, well, thanks Brian.”

After that, Brian took Cynthia to lunch. He’d been discretely feeling her out to see if she’d be ready to jump if Marty sold the agency sooner. Cynthia had the Ryder Agency wired. She knew every employee, who the top performers were, as well as who took credit for what was produced by someone else. The two of them had speculated, all in fun of course, on what would be involved in starting a firm from the ground up, a harmless pastime that Cynthia assured him was futile. She was certain Marty, given Brian’s performance, was sure to make him a partner any day. Brian and she often spun scenarios, such as if Brian bought the agency from Marty, what changes would have to be made, and what deadwood would need to be culled. And after the Gala in December he’d had Cynthia, who frequently lunched with Marty’s assistant Pauline, on the lookout for Gardner Vance.

Brian spent the afternoon making follow up calls on some contacts he’d made in Phoenix. Marty should have been way more interested in starting talks with a software company in Phoenix, a health care company in San Diego and an airline in Dallas. Technically since Ryder hadn’t funded the trip they were Brian’s contacts. Kinnetik didn’t exist and he really needed to talk to Justin about whether it ever should. Did he want to put in the kind of hours it would take to launch a new agency? Sure it had been a cash cow but it had eaten up time. He’d been good at it, but did he need it? He’d moved most of his files or copies of them to the loft. He hadn’t actually been updating the ones here in his office since the Gala. Something about seeing Vance there made him think Marty was planning to sell the agency out from under him again. This time he was making sure that Marty only sold what was his. Gardner Vance was not someone Brian intended to trust twice.

+

Justin was in his studio. Sep had dropped him after school. He’d had a few ideas come while watching Brian bake in the Arizona sun, okay most had been about what to do to Brian when he got him back to their suite but one had been about his current project. He had fifteen paintings in various stages of completion; this wouldn’t be the large collection the burlesque tribute had been. It would probably round out to twenty or at the most twenty four. It hadn’t escaped his notice that he was producing less in twice the time but to be fair there was a lot going on in his life. He was reasonably sure that even at his current pace it would be ready in April or May. What he needed, if he was planning to show it at the History Centre would be research. He considered approaching the Centre, having their staff either do it or recommend and expert in the area.

He turned to get a drink and noticed not only was his glass empty but so was the pitcher he mixed up. He checked his watch and swore. He reached for his phone but before he could find it the door opened and Brian walked in with take out.

“I lost track of time,” Justin said.

Brian said, “And I work too late, and go on too many business trips.”

Justin cleaned his brushes while Brian set the food out on the kitchen counter. He said, “I promised myself, that I won’t get distracted by everything. The expectations of the world, our friends, family, I wouldn’t let all that crap, this crap distract me from what was really important. And I’m doing it all over again.”

Brian walked over to where he was at the kitchen sink and took him in his arms. He hunched down until they were forehead to forehead and said, “This is important. This is you. You take in everything around you and it comes out in art. Beauty, love, pain, loneliness, you always have; and when that energy if flowing you lose track of everything but what your creating. At least you’re doing it here, where I can show up and feed you instead of in some hole in wall in Queens.”

“Brian. We got a second chance and I’m not going to blow it,” Justin started.

Brian cut him off and said, “You won’t. I might. Thirty or Forty five you were always more mature than me. Justin, you’ve got to stop stressing about this. I’m here. You’re here. Neither of us are Zen enough to live in every moment of everyday. Intellectually we know we have a finite time but we can’t live every minute as if we might die the next. If something is meant to happen it’s going to happen, weren’t you the one always riding me about how I tried to control everything?”

“Stella use to say ‘if you want to make God laugh tell him your plans’, Justin said.

Brian smiled and kissed him and said, “Smart lady. I got Indian; parsi shrimp curry, aloo gobi mater and roti.”

Justin mixed up more ice tea and lemonade. They sat on the floor on a clean drop cloth. It wasn’t a picnic on the floor it was just a lack of furniture in the studio. At least that was what the dancing gleam in Brian’s eyes said. Brian must have stopped at the loft first because he was in jeans. Sometimes, like now, watching him scoop the curry up with the soft roti, Brian looked all of nineteen years old himself. He sprawled on the floor and relayed running in to Kip again and the weird atmosphere at work, how he thought Marty was in negotiations to sell the agency; had been since December but now was near sealing a deal.

They debated the advisability of going through the motions of trying to save his job or just letting Gardner fire him with everyone else. Given Brian’s performance for the last year it would be insane for Vance to play the same hardball trying to get Brian to prove himself. But if he did, Brian was thinking of calling his bluff. If Vance was stupid enough to buy the agency for its existing contracts and not keep the people who created the campaigns Brian was more than willing to hang him out to twist in the wind.

They finished up dinner and Justin scrubbed the paint off his hands. He had changed out of his uniform but was in old comfortable clothes, hardly suitable for clubbing. As they drove down Fifth Avenue from Squirrel Hill they passed by a property or properties given it was a block of vacant buildings. They were bank foreclosures Brian had bid on with an eye to doing loft conversions. The center two of the four buildings had been retail stores with large boarded windows on the first floor back in the fifties and sixties with apartments on the upper floors. The two end ones had been apartment buildings. Now they speculated on if this would work for Kinnetik. Afterwards, they stopped at Woody’s and played some pool with Emmett and HD. Apparently their vacation had consisted of reroofing Aunt Lula’s house.

“You were on the roof of a house, Honeycutt?” Brian said.

Emmett said, “Don’t call me Honeycutt.”

“In Hazlehurst half the town would answer if you use that name,” HD said bending over to take a shot.

Emmett ogled HD’s ass and said, “Still don’t know how you managed to not throw Jud off the roof.”

“Jud’s not so bad. Burnett needs his ass kicked,” HD said, having sunk his ball he lined up another shot.

Justin asked, “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

“There’s six of us still living, but it used to be seven,” Emmett said.

Brian finished his beer and said, “Damn, just one drives me crazy.”

“Amen,” said Justin and HD together, and then looked at each other and grinned.

Brian snorted and said, “I ruined her life but taking away her only child status.”

“You’re the youngest?” HD said, “That; actually explains a lot.”

“Where’s Ted tonight?” Justin asked.

Emmett said, “He’s meeting with some potential investors, he’s thinking of starting a website.”

“He mentioned something about that idea,” Brian said, with a significant look at Justin, “I think the whole dot com thing is pretty well played out.”

HD shared that Emmett was starting a business and the talk turned to what he would call it and if he had a business plan yet. After finishing the game they stayed about an hour talking before heading home.

Tuesday Michael and David came back and invited everyone over to their house on Friday. Wednesday Brian showed up for work with everyone running around like headless chickens. Vance had closed the deal, Marty was retiring and people were being fired left and right. Cynthia followed Brian into his office saying, “Marty said he wanted to see you as soon as you came in, Vance said the same but he has Jensen in there now and two people waiting.”

“Don’t I feel like the belle of the ball,” Brian said. “Who’s he fired so far?”

Cynthia said, “the art twins, and Shelly from graphic design, but he kept Bob Peterson.”

“So he’s going off Marty’s notes or assessments,” Brian said, “that’ll bite him in the ass. Peterson’s been taking credit for half the art department’s work for years. He can’t design to spec to save his life. Who’s out on our side?”

“Almost everyone; Brian he can’t get rid of you, you pull in more revenue than all the others combined,” she said.

“Want to put money on it?” Brian smirked and said, “He’s going to play hard ball, try to get me to prove myself to him. What do you think he’ll do if I don’t?”

“Office gossip has you being courted by every big agency,” Cynthia said, “your trip to New York-”

“Shopping,” Brian said.

Cynthia snorted and said, “Right. And you’ve been out West twice now.”

“Art openings; Justin’s an artist, I told you that,” Brian said.

Cynthia said, “But you don’t talk or gossip with the rest of the staff, for all they know you’re being wooed by rival agencies. You and I both know non-compete agreements usually only work in limited areas.

“Speaking of, you have contact information on everyone we flagged as keepers right? If for instance we’re out on the street and need to start a new agency just to feed ourselves?” Brian said.

Brian had to give Cynthia credit, that question only made her pause and barely widen her eyes, she said, “Of course. You were the one who said, it wasn’t mine if I didn’t have a copy at home. Just my rolodex is here, sorted under password on the mainframe. The names, numbers and the coding I use for important details, it will probably be purged without anyone even looking at it. The actual notes, on spouses, important dates, kids, all the details you pull out of the clients are home, ever since” She cut off and turned an incredulous look on Brian and said, “Jesus, how long have you been planning this?”

“I’m not planning anything,” Brian said. “You were the one planning on Marty making me a partner or arranging a long-term buy out. Don’t get cold feet on me now. We play this just like a pitch meeting. If he starts firing administration staff, you’re shocked; tearful if you can manage it. Bring up all the awards you’ve been recommended for as well as won.”

“Brian you made up half of those,” Cynthia said.

Brian smirked and said, “Who’s the best pitchman you know? Do I question your freakish organizational skills? The longer we can keep you here the more inside information we’ll have on what his plans are. Why pay a fortune for a company and then gut its resources? We talked about this. It would be more cost effective to set up his own office and take our accounts.”

“Like we’re-” Cynthia started but Brian held a finger to his lips and cut her off.

Brian said, “We’re just waiting to hear our fate. Is he going to make me a partner when I walk in his office? I’ve only met him in passing but you did the research on him, what do you think?”

Brian left Cynthia in his office and stopped into see Marty, he had the same guilty, greedy look he had when he’d sold the agency before. Brian got the impression that he would have liked a day to say goodbye and be sent off by his loving staff before Vance started firing people right and left. Marty had been a good source of clients in the future. Anyone who he fished or golfed with who complained about the drop in quality in their campaigns since he retired was always told it was because Vance had been stupid enough to fire Kinney and then Marty had directed them to Kinnetik. Brian certainly couldn’t fault him with wanting to get out and enjoy life while he still could and hoped Vance had paid him what the agency was worth before he gutted it. So Brian wished him luck and said if Justin ever had a show in South Florida they’d look him up.

As Brian approached, Pauline, Marty’s former assistant, she was red eyed and sniffing as she sat at the admin desk outside the office Vance was using for exit interviews; or perhaps he considered them transition meetings. Brian offered her a smile and said, “You know Pauline, I don’t think the new boss knows one employee from the next yet. If you need a break Cynthia would be happy to work the desk. After working for me for so long, people yelling at her just rolls off her back.”

“Mr. Kinney, he’s letting more than half the people he sees go, and the rest are scared to death. They have families to support and no one saw this coming,” she whispered with a cautious glance at the closed door. “I just feel so bad for them, but I’m scared myself. Maybe he’s just keeping me here until he’s fired everyone and then will fire me last.”

Brian said, “Well that would just be stupid, then he’d have to do all his own work.”

As she smiled at him the door opened and Kip came out looking shell-shocked. “You okay there Biff?” Brian asked. He didn’t look okay he looked like he needed to sit down and put his head between his knees. Kip didn’t answer he just stumbled past in the direction of the men’s room. Once Gardner buzzed Pauline and gave the go to send the next lamb to slaughter, Brian winked at her and walked in.

“Have a seat,” Vance said, much like he had the last time. This time however Brian sat and watched Vance posture and basically pitch the idea that Brian had to scramble to get into his good graces. He listened attentively, both to see if anything changed and to take notes on what not to do. Had this idiot looked at a spreadsheet? Had his CFO had time to do the forensic accounting necessary to see where money came from and where it bled out? When he finally finished throwing down the gauntlet and basically challenging Brian to prove he worth he asked if Brian had any questions.

“Quite a few actually, but the foremost is why did you buy Ryder, why not just open up a branch of Vanguard in town?” Brian asked.

Apparently the whole ‘do you have any questions’ had been rhetorical as Vance had turned his back while asking it and now whirled around as if surprised Brian was still here. “I don’t have to justify why I chose Ryder for Vanguard’s newest acquisition, certainly not to an employee.”

“Vance,” Brian said, “make something up. That answer just makes you look defensive. Better your employee and best pitchman ask you that than the press, who if it’s a slow day for business news will. It’ll be hard to say you value Ryder’s work since your planning to cull most of the staff but lie. Ryder is whom all the accounts you just purchased had a relationship with, which means each and every one was sold on Ryder you don’t want them thinking that your implying they made a bad decision. As it is, from an outside observer’s point of view – for instance, our existing and potential future clients - it looks like you just bought the accounts, that you were not confident in your own ability to produce winning campaigns and sway them on you own, so you bought their existing contracts out from under them. If you question their judgement like that it will be triply hard to get them to re-sign.”

“Thank you for that unsolicited advice, Kinney,” Vance said showing teeth.

Brian smiled and said, “No charge, that’s what you pay me for, my next question is or well it should be, expected. What’s in it for me?”

“What?” Vance said, he actually sat at his desk.

Brian said, “I’m not that wide-eyed intern that just stumbled out of here to barf in the bathroom. I’m your gunslinger, you send me in when you need someone who won’t blink. So, Marshall, you tell me I have a week to prove myself to you and maybe you’ll let me keep my job. What is in it for me? Full partnership? Fifty percent of all profit, two extra weeks’ vacation? A golden parachute no matter why employment is severed; and running the Pittsburgh office once you’re done putting the fear of the new boss into everyone? You’ve spelled out what I need to do for you to let me stay, now tell me why I should want to stay.”

“Are you quitting?” Vance asked.

Brian said, “No, but you, Gardner Vance, have just made my job infinitely harder, you’ve booted people who actually produce adequate results and have kept people who excel at kissing ass. The staff, what they do, even though it doesn’t on a spreadsheet generate the revenue that say for instance, I do; are the product I sell. They make sure that what I offer the clients is delivered. So tell me, if I give you what you’re asking for, what do I get? And don’t say I get to keep my job, I can do this job in Manhattan or San Francisco and you know us fags, we’ll move anywhere for a decent tailor.” At Vance’s shocked look Brian added, “Oh come on Gardner, you saw me dancing with my partner at the Gala, I’ve known since then you were in negotiations with Marty. I even considered buying him out myself.”

“And you decided not to?” Vance said.

Brian shrugged and said, “Wasn’t cost-effective. I’m a venture capitalist, never really got into golf or fishing – making money is my hobby. Only way it would have worked is if Marty had made me a partner and went silent, lived of his own percentage of the profits. In the long run that would have been more profitable to him but I can see his desire for a lump sum purchase. He has no idea if you’ll still be in business next year.”

“You got balls of steel, Kinney,” Vance said.

Brian shook his head and said, “Solid titanium. Seriously, it never occurred to you that you walking in might mean something other than strutting and posturing and trying to intimidate the staff? Lots of people here loved Marty, it never occurred to you they might just leave? You don’t have any sort of retention package put together to offer your talent? At least the ones you should want to keep? On behalf of the talent let me just say that the message your sending regarding the way we’ll be treated has to be causing even some of the ones you’ve earmarked to keep to suddenly be entertaining all those offers the best employees always have just waiting for them.”

“Do you know why I called you in here, Kinney?” Vance said.

Brian smiled and said, “From the way you spelled it out it was to name the daring task I must perform to win your fair hand, despite my pointing out that I should be the one being wooed. But in all honesty I figure you just wanted to get a look at me, see if I would roll over and show you my belly. But honestly you’ve been in the business too long to think that while you’re assessing me, I’m not evaluating you right back.”

“Marty told me that despite the fact you’ve brought in more money in the past year than in your whole career with Ryder that you’ve lost the hunger. You’re no longer as ruthless as you used to be,” Vance said.

Brian shrugged and said, “Accurate. Obviously from the results it was a good change; profitable for Ryder. Truth is I’ve made an obscene amount of money in the last year. The words ‘you’re fired’ don’t have me quaking because I could easily live comfortably for the rest of my life, just practicing my juggling. So woo me, why should I stay and make money for you?”

It went back and forth for another forty minutes. Basically Vance wanted all his ad execs hungry and desperate to close the deal, he didn’t trust Brian’s new layback attitude. Given Brian knew most of the accounts Vanguard held and most of the clients Ryder would have acquired in the next year or so it was amusing to wonder if he would be winning them for Vanguard or himself. Justin had pointed out when Brian had been waffling about opening Kinnetik at all that Brian had provided a lot of jobs and that now since they had more capital they could hire a larger staff and be less involved. Privately Brian thought Justin didn’t want Brian in his hair while he was painting and Kinnetik was some vanity project for a trophy wife. Still he knew he needed something to do while Justin was in college, even if he sold Kinnetik to some idiot like Gardner or just gave it to Cynthia it would be worth the time and effort to start it. The baths hadn’t been closed but that foreclosure on a group of abandoned buildings on the Bluff would give them the hip urban look they needed with a Fifth Avenue address that would impress people who didn’t know Pittsburgh. While the loft conversions would have been profitable ten years from now when they would be in walking distance of Mercy Hospital and Duquesne University pitched right they would have been able to get doctors of both medical and academia to move in even before the Arena was razed and Consol Energy Center was built. Now it might do for Kinnetik’s first offices.

Back at his office he used his cell to call the bank’s foreclosure office. HD had hooked him up with the guy who had sold him the building in Lawrenceville. Tyrone Reese handled most of the foreclosures in Downtown, Uptown, the Strip, Lawrenceville, Crawford Roberts, Terrace Village and Bedford Dwellings for PNC Bank. He asked if upping his offer could expedite the transfer of ownership. His next call was to Ted to look into tax abatements for urban renewal and any other advantage to moving an active business into the area and to see about purchasing the vacant lot nearby, Justin had pointed out the lack of secure parking in the area. He had also suggested researching the ownership of many of the vacant buildings in the area for further development.

+

Justin had been planning to head to his studio but a text from Brian had him in an office off Oliver delivering a bank check for a two hundred thousand dollars. Yes, he was joint on all Brian’s accounts and yes, he was listed as an officer of TKVC but having a seventeen year old stop at the bank to have an official check cut for that amount had sent the middle aged women who worked there into a tizzy. It had also prompted them to call Brian, who had apparently ripped them a new one for questioning his seventeen year old partner. Justin did a mental countdown to his eighteenth birthday, but figured anyone looking to withdraw that amount would send them into a tailspin, even an eighteen year old.

Buying a foreclosure was pretty straight forward, just sign and it was yours. Brian had upped his offer by fifty thousand just to get it now. They would own it and all its problems but were expecting to have to re-everything anyway. Justin could sign for TKVC and the keys were handed over along with notarized documents saying TKVC now owned the building. Justin figured the Reese guy would have felt better, and maybe the ladies at the bank if he hadn’t still been wearing his school uniform.

Justin headed back to the loft and reloaded his satchel, with the deeds, the keys and a new unused sketch book. He dug up a couple flashlights and changed into boots, an older jacket and jeans. As an afterthought he grabbed Brian’s oldest pair of jeans, a sweatshirt and a pair of boot for him. He bussed over to where Ryder’s offices were and went straight to the parking garage. It seemed unusually empty given it was twenty ‘til five. He used his keys to get into Brian’s jeep and put Brian’s clothes in the back.

He didn’t have service but he typed a text to Emmett to see if he and HD wanted to come and look at the abandoned buildings he and Brian had just bought. Not Emmett’s idea of a good time but HD would love it and probably have some good ideas on making a row of four buildings into one headquarters of the future jewel of Pittsburgh’s economy. Brian and he had talked about buying the baths when they closed and moving Kinnetik and using this for TKVC’s headquarters, but as Brian always pointed out the future was fluid. Justin hit send; the message would go once they drove out of the deep parking garage.

Brian startled him by opening the door and flashed a wicked grin when he realized he had. Justin said, “Change your clothes.”

Instead of taking the clothes and heading to the public restroom by the elevators, Brian got into the backseat and started to disrobe. As he changed he said, “Its fucking anarchy. It’s a wonder Kip didn’t throw himself out a window. I’m severely disappointed in his ass kissing skills. Daddy’s connections couldn’t keep him in a job more than two weeks.”

“I take it he’s not on the keep list,” Justin said with a smirk.

Brian’s voice was muffled by the sweatshirt he pulled on and he said, “The only one on our immediate keep list is Cynthia. And so far Gardner hasn’t fired her, any more than he has me.”

“So TKVC is renovating the property, which only once it’s completed will they sell to Kinnetik?” Justin said.

Brian got out of the backseat and into the driver’s seat and said, “It can’t sell it to Kinnetik until after its formed and I can’t form and advertising agency while I still work for Vanguard. I have a week to save my job,” and he rolled his eyes, “if I’m fired in a week or two, I can take off the couple months it will take to overhaul the property but I may lose the staff.”

He started the jeep and exited the garage as Justin said, “well, you could always rent some bland office space just until its ready. Or you can kick back and run TKVC, keep anyone you cannot afford to lose on staff.”

“Cynthia is the only one I can’t afford to lose, any of the others I can do without or replace,” Brian said.

Justin said, “He kept her last time at least until you lured her away.”

They took the path of least traffic up the hill and down at the back of the property. Parking on the street Justin dug for the flash light. Having keys was laughable given most of the doors and windows were boarded shut. Suddenly Justin wished HD was there. It wasn’t just that it was a really bad neighborhood, but there might be rats. He loved Brian but couldn’t see him throwing himself on a rat for him.

Justin’s phone rang and as soon has he answered it Emmett’s voice asked, “Why in the name of Cher’s sparkiest Bob Mackie creation would I want to go look at abandoned buildings?”

“Why does HD want to dance to regurgitate electronic Eurotrash music?” Justin replied and then added, “Brian will buy dinner.”

Emmett sighed and said, “We’re on our way, where are you?”

Justin gave them directions but with work traffic didn’t expect them to make it as quickly as they did or to be coming in from the direction of Oakland instead of Downtown. In the ten minutes it took them to arrive Brian had managed to open the padlock on one of the exterior doors, and between the dim light of the grey February evening and their flashlight had looked cautiously at the interior of one of the two center storefronts.

When they arrived HD took one look at their flashlight, snorted then jumped up in the bed of his truck and pulled out some two high-powered halogen lights, a large red metal hooked bar that looked like a weapon and tossed them each a hardhat. He went in first followed by Brian and Justin just couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Do you think there are rats?”

Emmett made a girlish squeal and HD was at his side in an instant but said to Justin, “Rats, cats, bats, hell a whole eco system,” and then to Emmett, “Relax darlin’ there more afraid of you than you are of them. It’s the junkies and homeless people who’ll bite you.”

Surprisingly there were still ancient fixtures, shelves and other indicators this had once been a store. They even went up the back stairs to what had once been an apartment, with HD firmly stomping on each step to make sure no one would crash through and poking walls and doors with the curved hook on the end of his metal thing.

“First you need to clear all this crap out,” HD said, gesturing at the decaying furniture, a couple mattresses that indicated even though it was empty now it had occasionally been squatted in, “hire someone who knows city codes and see if you can fuse this all into one property. Then have a structural expert tell you where you’ll need to reinforce and where you can poke open holes for interior connections; and if it has asbestos that’s a whole other problem.”

“Could you do it,” Brian asked.

HD said, “Could? If time wasn’t something you needed now. Yeah, but you want an expert, someone whose done this before. Also get someone with a full crew or you won’t be in before – hell you got to get building permits and see if you need zoning changes. I might know someone - don’t like him he’s an ass, and a bigot but he’s got a big enough crew and has done this kind of work. He’ll over charge you, especially once he knows your queer.”

“I’d rather have it done by someone I won’t want to kill,” Brian said, “Hire more people, hire the experts you need.”

HD grimaced and said, “No offence Brian, but you seem like you’d be a bitch to work for.” Emmett let out a high pitch giggle and Justin barked a laugh.

“I pay really well,” Brian said.

They finished the walk though up to the third floor but not able to reach the hatch to the roof. Given the neighborhood and the time of day they locked up without checking the other buildings to get their cars off the darkening street. Most of the street lamps overhead had been broken.

They all met at ‘Mullaney’s Harp and Fiddle’ near Brian’s loft. Once they ordered Justin handed over the buildings’ specs that had been included with the deeds to HD. He grumbled a bit but paged through them, tilting them to make it easier for Emmett to see. Justin figured Emmett knew about as much as he did about knocking out walls, plumbing and electricity but figured it was kind of sweet that HD was pointing out things to him.

“This would be easier and faster if you just left them separate put one loft on each floor of each building, eight unites and you could rent the two store fronts. Not much use for businesses there but if it was restaurants that delivered your close to Carlow, Chatham, Duquesne, Pitt, and all the hospitals in Oakland,” HD said.

Brian set his glass down and said, “I want to make this the headquarters for a business, impressive lobby, large offices, sky lights and huge windows on the top floors for the art department.”

“Surrounded by urban decay, section eight housing and kids who will take anything that’s not nailed down,” HD asked, “how much you budgeting for security after its done? You never get the place insured, it’s the Hill.”

“It’s the bluff, technically Uptown,” Brian corrected.

HD snorted and quaffed his Guinness and said, “Uptown hasn’t been uptown since they razed all the minority owned businesses to build the arena and the whole war on poverty started.”

“I know this,” Justin cut in, “the clubs were there right? But I thought that was over on Wylie?”

“Blacks aren’t the only minority kid,” HD said, “Polish Hill is self-explanatory, but Bloomfield was Italian and your building is smack in the middle of the old Irish ghetto.”

“Well that’s apropos,” Justin muttered and Brian smirked and toasted him with his beer.

The food came shortly and they concentrated on eating, finally HD said, “give me the keys, you want I should make a couple sets? I’ll look it over with Wade tomorrow, make some inquiries with the right row offices regarding permits and site reno. Here’s hoping you don’t have a fucking historical building that some egghead wants to preserve in its original state. I’m not saying I’ll do it, I’m just going to look in to what would be involved in doing it.”

“We can meet tomorrow night and you can tell us all the reasons it won’t work,” Brian said.

Justin said, “You, he can tell you. I have a school board meeting tomorrow.”

“At Woody’s?” Emmett asked.

Brian said, “come to the Loft, I don’t want every fag on Liberty in the know. I’ll have Ted stop by we’ll talk numbers. You want to cater it? Just don’t go over four hundred.”

“And make sure there’s leftovers,” Justin said.

+

Thursday was crazed, or at least Daphne was crazed which in turn made Thursday crazed. The girls had blackmailed their parents to come. Justin felt guilty he hadn’t made any calls being all wrapped up in life outside of school. Ironically, now that he thought of it, that had been the way he’d spent almost his entire senior year the first time. So the very least he could do was let her panic and pace and stress out all day with him before going to support the group at the board meeting.

After school they went their separate ways, Justin back to the loft to change and grab a bite. September picked him up and tossed him a box, with a digital camcorder. “Sep,” he said, “These things take hours to charge.”

“I bought it yesterday,” she said, “it charged all day while we were in school. But I know you have to read directions and junk so I just packed it in the box. You have to record the meeting, what Daph says and how they respond. In case we sue.”

“Why me,” Justin asked.

She said, “Your dad owns an electronics chain and your good at this stuff?”

“Think they’ll let us,” Justin said. “Record, not sue.”

“Maybe get it set up and hope they don’t notice,” she said. “Should we take Hunter?”

“No,” Justin said, “the last thing we need is them to think we’re turning this into a tourist attraction.”

The meeting started at seven, they got there at six thirty and the admin building that it was in was open and the board was there as they had some organizational things they did before. Niles was with his parents and did introductions. Sep’s dad was away on business and Justin and her were the only ones there without parents.

Justin spotted Mr. Chandlers standing outside the ladies’ room and went over. He asked, “Is she barfing again?”

“She wouldn’t eat she shouldn’t be able to,” he said.

Sep pushed past, snagging Justin’s elbow and dragging him with her. He yelped, “Damn it September, stop emasculating me. Hi, Mrs. Chandlers.”

“Hello Justin,” Daphne’s mom said. Sometimes Justin felt she found him too amusing.

Daphne stepped out of the stall and Justin said, “You okay?”

“I’m going to barf,” Daphne said.

“Sep, see if Tracy’s on her way and have her stop for some ginger ale.” Justin said. “You want gum?”

While Sep called Tracey, Daphne nodded and hugged him. He dug through his satchel and offered her cinnamint and Brian’s nicotine gum. She took one of each.

The four of them emerged from the ladies room in time for Mr. Hunt to see them coming out together. Mr. Hunt started to say something but Mrs. Chandlers said, “I understand you compared my daughter’s efforts to promote tolerance and a safe learning environment with white supremacist. I’d be interested in hearing how the two relate.”

Justin, Daph and Sep left Daphne’s mom interrogating Mr. Hunt and joined Daphne’s dad out of the blast range. Soon Tracy showed up with her dad and mom and handed Justin a twenty ounce plastic bottle of ginger ale. He opened it and handed it to Daphne. Tracy asked, “Did she barf again?”

“Daph you have a decision to make. Listen to me, are you listening?” Justin said. She nodded and sipped her ginger ale. “You can keep working yourself up and barf on stage, or you can get up there and just talk to your dad or talk to me, you’ve been going over this with us since the last meeting. Just tell us, the way you’ve been telling us all this time.”

Paul and Mike showed up with their parents, which Justin privately thought was above and beyond for the sake of Tracy’s dad not realizing he was just involved to spend time with his daughter. The parents were chatting and they all eventually took seats. Sep and Justin perched in the back of the room on top of a pile of folded tables stored there and Justin sighted the camera on the podium, tucking it in what he hoped was an unobtrusive place.

The seats quickly filled up, it wasn’t that large of a room but it looked like there were more people than the board expected. A few of the fathers got up to make room for some of the standing women.

“Mom?” Justin said, “What are you doing here?”

“Daphne called me,” she said, “really Justin you didn’t think I’d come. She explained what’s going on and that you’re not the only student being targeted. You’ve followed all the rules to form a club, you have a sponsor and that man; I can’t believe he called her a white supremacist, that’s just uncalled for.”

“Thanks Mom,” Justin said. He knew his mom wasn’t capable of perching up on top of the pile of tables like he and Sep and he needed the height to shoot over the heads of the crowd. Mr. Chandlers waved to him and Justin said, “Daphne’s dad saved you a seat Mom.” He added in a whisper, “we’re illegally recording the proceedings in case they do anything.”

She glanced at the camcorder on top of his satchel between him and September and said, “oh, well if you’re sure. “I’ll see you after?”

Justin nodded and once the meeting began they had to all sit through a lot of budget discussions and updates on the most mundane things, going over old business and then the new business which part of was them. He suspected they had padded the agenda to try and run out of time but if they thought they could drive off Daph, despite her rampant barfing at the thought of public speaking, they had another thing coming.

Finally they moved on to new business. Justin had heard several versions of Daphne’s speech. The first one had outed Mr. Hunt’s lie and said that he had reported that the board had voted when they didn’t but she’d been told by him and Niles that it had come off as bitter and shrewish, which while honest was not the best way to give feedback. Hopefully the words lying liar who lies were not part of tonight’s notes.

The head of the board introduced the proposal and then said that the student representative and president of the proposed club would be given the opportunity to speak and after any opposition could speak, following which pros and cons could be presented from all concerned parties.

Daphne stood at the podium and smiled at the audience. She had had to carry over a small step stool so she could be seen over the podium and still had to reach out to adjust the too high microphone. She looked as if she were still standing on tiptoe as she read from her note cards. “My name is Daphne Chanders, I’m president to the St. James Straight-Gay Alliance; and I’m Black. Most of you didn’t need me to tell you that. I never really thought about it myself, it’s like being short; it’s just something I am. If there are people here, or in my everyday life, who don’t like Black people, or short people, they usually just avoid me. That works out great for me because I don’t like bigots; see win-win.” Most of the audience seemed to be smiling indulgently but Mr. Hunt rolled his eyes.

She shuffled the cards and set them on the podium and started again, “I had an epiphany my Junior year when my best friend, who I’d spent what had felt like every day since we were five years old together, officially announced to me he was gay. I mean at first I was all ‘I so knew it’ but then it occurred to me; for the rest of his life he was going to have to meet people and then let them know. With me everyone could tell by looking at me and make the decision before getting to know me, before wasting my time if they were bigots. Justin will meet people, and may start to like them, and then they’ll be that moment, when either they figure it out or he tells them and they freeze up, or step back and say something that frankly to me sounds like, ‘Oh, I didn’t realize you had blue eyes’. Have you ever done that? Listened to what people say about homosexuals and then substituted some other arbitrary trait people can’t control like blue eyes or blond hair or white skin? Because Justin is all of those as well and he had no more say in that than he had in being gay.”

Daphne, reached for the mic, took it from the holder and stepped down. She walked around to the front of the podium and asked, “How many straight people do we have here tonight?” She held up here own hand and most of the audience held up theirs as well. Justin figured those who didn’t were just too lazy or refusing to participate since Daphne had announced she was with the Alliance.

“Let’s do an experiment shall we,” Daphne asked. “After all you’re here tonight to talk about an organization that is designed not only to offer support to students being assaulted, victimized, bullied and in general told violently and abusively to deny a fundamental part of who they are. Not all of the members we support are gay, our members also include straight people who don’t fit the stereotypical gender rolls and are harassed for a number of reasons; only one is the perception of homosexuality. A nasty side effect of such harassment and out-and-out abuse being tolerated by the staff and administration is some students just start to like being abusive, they like vandalism of private and school property, they like assaulting other students they just like being feared and are taught by the school that as long as they choose their victims from an approved subset of students, they won’t be punished.”

“So here, the experiment; and Mr. Hunt, Mr. Dixon; get those hands up, unless you’re coming out to the parents here tonight,” Daphne said, and oh shit. This was Angry Daphne with laser beam eyes. “Now straight people, I’m going to assume you’re all individuals, you have no group agenda. You’re here because you follow rules and want all the rules followed to keep good order. So in our experiment the rule is this, lower your hands if you suddenly become homosexual.”

“It’s now wrong to be straight. Overnight all the religious texts changed, the school charters, the laws regarding marriage, everything changed; it’s a miracle. Gay is the new norm. Marriage between a man and a woman is illegal and an abomination in the sight of God, you no longer can be assured your house, your kids or your business will go to your husband or wife, they can’t even come see you in the hospital. You can be fired from work if anyone finds out you had sex with the opposite gender. If you want to advance your career, run for political office, join a country club or be welcome at church services you better find yourself someone from your own gender. You can’t even choose to be single because everyone knows that’s what straight people do they just pretend not to have someone of the appropriate gender. If you continue to have sex with the opposite gender, you can lose your job, be asked to leave your congregation, shunned by your neighbors and suspected of child molestation, after all straight people - you’re now sexual deviants. Why are your hands still up?” Daphne asked the audience.

“Why are you choosing to be straight?” She said holding out the microphone at Mr. Dixon when she said it. “No I really want an answer, why are you choosing to be a deviant, all these people in the audience are good people; they’re going to follow the rules of a moral and just society. Why can’t you just be gay too? What is wrong with you Mr. Dixon? Why are you such an agitator? Why can’t you just man up and be gay like the rest of the world?”

“That’s enough, Miss Chanders,” Mr. Hunt said.

Daphne said, “Roberts Rules of Order said I had five minutes, Mr. Hunt. You couldn’t align your sexuality with the rules for a full minute but you expect the students, whose tuition pays your salary to endure forced conformation to your interpretation of what’s normal for their entire academic career. And if they don’t follow your guidelines for their sexuality, you endanger them, abuse them and expel them without provocation. Our student group wasn’t formed to hurt anyone or convert anyone. We just want there to be a safe place for the students that you refuse to protect. We just don’t want someone to have to be seriously injured or die in order for the ingrained bigotry that permeates the staff and administration of this school to be looked into by the parents and the board.”

“Students come and go; you and Mr. Dixon are going to be here year after year, unless one of you is arrested when a kid dies on your watch. This tolerance you show for fag-busting, it should be listed as corruption of minors and deserves to be investigated by the board and an oversight committee from Child Welfare. Mr. Hunt you encourage this behavior by willful blindness and Mr. Dixon actively rewards it as long as the targeted students even suspected of being same sex oriented. The people here” and she gestured to everyone in the audience, not one hand still in the air, “They’re here because their concerned about their kids, and they should be.”

“Maybe you can convince ever person who became gay tonight that it’s just a matter of discipline to force gay teens to be straight and maybe they’ll be okay with you turning their kids into storm troopers and using their kids to stomp out the bad element. But for the rest, who realized even if all the rules changed, they would still be straight, they’re going to realize you’re not qualified to deal with teens. Thank you. Now, my time is up.” She walked back to the podium as the crowd murmured, had to use the step stool to put the mike back and gathered her cards. As she stepped down from the stage Mr. Chanders hugged her and kissed the top of her head. Whatever he murmured to her made her look up with a big smile.

Mr. Hunt was the only one to step up to make a rebuttal. He used the same tired excuse that if he let everyone who wanted to form a club do it they would have inappropriate clubs. He did avoid words white supremacists, possibly due to Daphne’s mom glaring daggers at him and possibly due to them calling it Mr. Hunt’s white supremacists several times when they were protesting his denying them a charter after the last board meeting.

According to Daphne’s Roberts Rules of Order handbook they would then alternate pros and cons for the proposal of granting the clubs charter but not five minutes a time keeper would stop them after two minutes and Justin was the first to sign up for pro. So after Mr. Hunt finished, he approached the mic they had set up for the seated members of the audience. Justin said, “I’m Justin Taylor, I was listening to the old business and noticed the board didn’t seem concerned about the possibility of Title Nine violations citing that St. James is a private school. St. James does however, receive federal funds and those will be shut off if this matter is not investigated. For the laymen in the audience, schools have an obligation under Title Nine to prevent and address harassment against students, regardless of whether the harassment is perpetrated by peers, teachers, or other school officials. Anyone can file a complaint with the Department of Education’s Office of Civil Rights, you don’t have to be the victim. Friends, parents or concerned citizens may file the complaints. If you believe an act of harassment or intimidation is not being investigated you can contact the OCR and have the situation looked into, the complaint will be investigated and if the school is found negligent the funding will be cut. This might not be as much of a concern with private schools, but flagrant violation of Title Nine will impact parents considering sending their children here. As Daphne pointed out, parents you’re paying tuition, you deserve to know if your kid is being pushed down stairs or having his property stolen or destroyed-“

“Time,” the moderator called.

Mr. Dixon got up to speak. He pointed out how small the group was that wanted the club and that the school did not have the staff or the time to facilitate all the special interest groups so giving space and time to one was favoritism.

Niles mother was the next to speak and she pointed out that since Mr. Hunt had blocked the club and lied about the board voting on it previously they had no membership drive. She also recounted how many of Niles books and uniforms had been destroyed and that her son who was not an athlete often came home bruised or in one case with a bloody nose and her inquiry had always been responded to by Mr. Hunt that he was not aware of any problem. Niles must have been sharing too much of Justin’s rants because Mrs. Anderson ended by saying, “Isn’t that part of your job, Mr. Hunt; to be aware of what is going on and stop students from being physically and verbally abused. I pay your salary, why aren’t you protecting my son?”

There weren’t any more cons and the pros went on for a while with parents wanting to know why violence and destruction of property in the school wasn’t being addressed or reported. When the board voted the club was granted a trial period for the rest of the semester, but if Justin remembered correctly Mr. Hunt still could deny it according to the school charter. He decided to let them celebrate their win and tucked Sep’s camera into his satchel and gathered with his mom and the others in the atrium.

“I wish I had known about that Title Nine information last year,” Mrs. Anderson said.

Justin said, “You have 180 days after an incident to report it, and longer if you’re granted an extension by the OCR. I would still report anything like you described. I had no idea Niles had been injured. Send them an email, at least then it’s on file.”

“Niles said you used to get it worse than him,” she said and Justin noticed his mom looking shocked and scared.

Justin shrugged, “School fag; I’m not exactly physically intimidating but I wield a mean lawyer.”

They all chatted a while but being a school night it broke up early. Justin got a ride home with his mom and she eyed the exterior of the building as if he were living in a slum. Justin said, “It’s a loft, it’s gorgeous, don’t be so judgmental.” Praying Brian wasn’t wandering around naked, or banging someone he asked, “You want to come up and see for yourself that there are no rats or cockroaches?”

“If it’s no trouble,” Jennifer said.

Justin led her into the elevator and pulled down the grate. Outside the door, he said another pray and rolled it back. The dining room table had been extended to the full nine and a half feet and it was at an angle covered by papers, forms, and it looked like someone had found the blue prints to all four buildings. Brian and HD barely glanced up when the door opened but Emmett was in the kitchen and greeted them enthusiastically. Justin had forgotten the meeting. He introduced his mom and explained that he and Brian has acquired some property and were planning to renovated it.

Emmett had picked up ribs and pulled pork from ‘Smokey Bones’ and insisted Jennifer join Justin at the counter. She demurred but he offered her a glass of wine and got Justin some sweet tea. Ted was crunching numbers over at Brian’s desk and Justin asked if there had been anything interesting in any of the buildings.

“More crap, anything of value would have been pillaged years ago,” HD said, “don’t suppose you want a part time job doing clean up?”

Justin snorted and said, “No. And I don’t like painting walls either.”

“Obviously you’ve never used a power paint gun,” HD said.

“How’d Daphne do? She make them cry?” Brian asked.

Emmett looked up from tiding and said, “Oh that’s right, tonight was the board meeting.”

“We have a trial period for the rest of the semester,” Justin said, “then when we evil agitators are graduated they’ll shut it down.

“Justin,” his mom said, “I will give you that Mr. Hunt is a very unpleasant man, I really think you got through to most of the board and I know the parents were impressed with the Title Nine information you supplied. Where did you learn that?”

“The internet,” Justin said.

“Title Nine has more sway with public schools,” Brian said.

Jennifer said, “Loss of tuition has more sway with private schools and no one wants their child at a school that condones harassment.”

His mom didn’t stay long she did eye the naked man painting and the fact the bed was on display. Ted was the first to finish up and said he had a meeting with the city to see about abatements early the next day. He offered to walk Justin’s mom to her car. Justin wasn’t sure if seeing the loft filled with men had reassured her or if she would assume it was an orgy in the making.

+

The next night, when the lights went down, Justin snuggled over almost climbing into Brian’s lap. The first time they’d endured this little slice of hell they’d made out mostly because slide shows were wielded by upper demons in the ninth circle and Brian would take anything that worked to medicate the pain. Now, Brian knew, Justin was just baiting Debbie. Last time Brian had been the one who pushed the envelope to see how much Justin would let him get away with in front of everyone; now Brian was probably going to have to be the one to keep it above the waist.

Mikey was narrating the slide show in a snotty condescending voice as if ten days in Paris had revealed he was the secret love child of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette. Brian was surprised that Justin hadn’t gotten in some digs the first time around. The kid had been to Paris himself the summer between his sophomore and junior year in high school, long before the two of them had spent some long vacations kicking around the shops and museums of Europe. Of course, back then, the first time, Justin had probably been too conscious of how defensive Brian could be of Michael. And of course before he would have felt obligated to protect Michael from anyone pointing out his uncouth behavior.

Brian had always been self-conscious of his own lack of breeding. It was what had prompted him to learn ballroom dancing to fulfill the gym credit even student athletes needed in college and to plow through all the books in the etiquette and manners section of the library during study breaks. Brian knew he wanted out, and he knew when he got to the top, he didn’t want to look like some uncultured boor who thought money alone would mean he’d be accepted. So he’d polished his own edges, so to speak. Even Ron and Nancy had been charmed when Lindsay had brought him home on a visit. But where Brian had learned the steps to move among the powerful and affluent, Justin had been born to it, maybe not Craig but Grandmother Corcoran had grown up in the elite.

Not that Brian wanted to own up to having anything in common with Father Taylor, but Craig there was a blue collar boy who had probably pursued his highbred wife for her manners and connections as much as her beauty and charm. Brian wondered if Justin had any idea that the above it all airs put on by the artsy bohemian crowd he scorned were pale imitations of how he and his grandmother froze out undesirable behavior. Whether it was Grandmother Corcoran letting Uncle Will know he was her guest and therefore in attendance on her sufferance or Justin refusing to tolerate Debbie calling Brian and asshole in Justin’s home; the icy WASP demeanor was almost a mirror image. Brian kind of hoped he could be around when Justin hit Grandmother Corcoran’s age because talk about your ruthless old coots.

Dave for all his yuppie accoutrements was nouveau riche as well and obviously despite the educational trip to Versailles had missed the Louie and Marie connection. That fact that Em’s beau obviously got it and explained the comment to Em showed hidden depths. Mikey really was being obnoxious in his pontificating about how he’d been injected with culture in his little trip through Paris. But there were worse things than a lap full of hot blond who kissed as if his life depended on it. Justin hadn’t even tried the cheese and when Michael offered him vin rouge before he’d said, “seventeen.” Justin may indulge at home but Dave had looked relieved with the failure of Michael to provide alcohol to someone who at least to Dave must seem almost as young as his son in his home.

It was Friday, but neither of them had had a nap or dinner due to the distraction of sex. So maybe an early night, grab something and head home. Hunter was a riot, and he hadn’t been here the first time so he could answer Debbie’s questions and he didn’t like Michael treating Deb and Vic as uncultured boobs. Neither of them had pointed out they’d toured the high points of Italy they just let Michael drone on over picture after picture of him and Dave. Brian wasn’t sure if he and Justin had had this many pictures of themselves together after fifteen years. If he wasn’t sure Michael had a slide with ‘Fin’ in there somewhere he would swear they were cycling thought the same slides.

If Ted hadn’t been sitting with them he was sure Lindsay and Mel would have joined in the make out fest. If not to kill time to drive Deb up the wall. Michael was attempting to show off his new found sophistication and Dave seemed to find it adorable. Brian wanted to yak. Lindsay used Gus as an excuse to get home as soon as possible and Justin, much to Hunter’s dismay was able to use school. Deb would have stayed and listen to her baby all night, but Vic claimed it was getting late to have Hunter out.

When they stopped at the cars outside oddly enough it wasn’t Justin complaining about only being offered dubious cheeses and wine. HD was starving and the five of them went out to eat.

+

Friday, Justin was greeted by hot pink flyers everywhere, with his own bold black graphic. Not only did they list meeting times twice a day before and after school for fifteen minutes. There was information on disease screenings with instructions to see September for membership information, Daphne to arrange rides and Tracy for details on starting a Gay Straight Alliance at your chosen college. Monica and Brittney were carrying pink Easter Baskets filled with condoms, handing them out along with flyers.

Paul, Mike and Niles were at their window and Paul greeted him with, “we’re on clean up. Hunt is having spasms and said he doesn’t want to see one flyer on the floor so you want lunch or afterschool.”

“Lunch,” Justin said. “And we work in teams of two, no one is alone.”

Mike said, “I think we can handle it.”

“I’d rather not take a bat to my head and find out I can’t,” Justin said.

Niles said, “this isn’t the inner city Justin, even the asshole are looking to get out and get to college, their no going to risk it.”

“Let’s just graduate alive and without brain damage, okay?” Justin said.

Paul looked disturbed by that but didn’t say anything. Soon the girls were swarming and dragging them off to one of the Art workshops where the morning meeting was held. Daphne seemed much more relaxed, perhaps because bossing her fellow students didn’t feel like public speaking. She pointed out that they all had watched how it picking on certain students wasn’t just overlooked but overtly encouraged. She explained that sexual harassment wasn’t just an executive trying to bang his secretary and she passed out information on student rights under title nine and suggested people make sure they and their parents knew that they had the right to complain if there was verbal or physical intimidation going on.

Justin wasn’t sure any of this would stop the kind of violence that had been directed at him. But he was positive with Daphne on the case it would not be brushed aside like his injuries had been. Brian had been pondering fixed points in time and things that seemed to happen regardless of what you did, he could be surprisingly philosophical when stoned. Justin wondered if the burlesque tribute and the music one he was working on would be the only ones he ever did unimpeded. They were head and shoulders above the work he’d produced even after years of learning to work with his limitations. Would people care more now that they, and the critics, would be able to see the difference between before and after? And did it make him a bad person to want to push Chris in front of a truck so he didn’t have to live with the brain damage for the rest of his life? Or would it happen regardless? Would he get brain damage from a car accident or attacked by someone else if Chris wasn’t around? He hadn’t, as Brian had pointed out, made a real enemy in Chris this time, there’d been no hand job and no outing him on Liberty, but Mr. Dixon certainly eyed him with rage instead of disgust this time. Only time would tell and time he was learning was a fickled bitch.


	56. From Transsexual, Transylvania.

 

As of Wednesday the twenty eighth, Brian was a free agent. They held off announcing it officially not wanting everyone to stick their two cents in. Justin noticed that Brian seemed torn between enjoying it and being ashamed of not having a job. Brian had pretty much worked all his life; as a kid for pocket money, as a teen to save for school and in school at various work-study programs and internships. Granted he had the reno of the new building to take up time. However he planned to contact some of the businesses he’d networked with at the Phoenix opening. They were attending the Dallas one on the 16th, which meant they would be in Dallas for both the leather ball and St. Patrick’s Day, but because of school they would be back before Justin’s eighteenth birth day on the 19th. Despite all Brian’s reassurances Justin was dreading the anniversary of the restart. Part of him would always think that milestones like that could signal the end of whatever this was.

Justin knew from the long rambling pot induced discussions they’d had that Brian was resigned to being unable to stop certain events and unsure how they would play out. Justin wasn’t the only one worried about the inevitability of brain damage; or cancer; or Michael’s near death in the bombing of Babylon. Brian had been a control freak the first time through when he truly had no knowledge of the future, and had seemed oddly mellow about their lack of control when they’d been reunited. Of course Brian could have just been riding high on the relief that they were in this together and not alone any more. Justin had been all but giddy for the first few weeks. No wonder Debbie and Michael had wanted Brian to stay far away from him, he must have looked like a love sick school girl as high as he was on the wonder that it was Brian, his Brian from fifteen years in the future, and not the wounded kid he’d fallen in love with back on that street corner.

Justin loved that Brian was picking him up at school every day. As far as he was concerned screw the painting, damn the show; it took all his resolve not to play hooky with him or get a damn GED. As it was, Brian, in addition to pestering HD about the reno had invested in Emmett’s catering business; Ted’s porn site along with Ted’s other five investors of course Brian had done it silently and under a shell company; a specialty grocer that opened in the South Side catering to gluten free and other dietary needs; and set up the two CMU students who had designed the websites for ‘Everybody’s Child’ and ‘Concerned Citizens for Truth’ with business plan, start-up funds and a lenient repayment schedule. This was apparently how Brian relaxed.

Justin took the turkey loaf out of the oven and set it on the counter, changed the temperature setting and loaded in a tray full of sweet potato wedges. It was the first day Brian hadn’t picked him up after school since he’d lost his job and maybe he should have used it to get some work done but he felt like making dinner instead. He had a steam in the bag vegetable medley ready to go as soon as Brian got home and a bag of broccoli slaw for the salad. He was thinking of pairing a Riesling with turkey loaf but wondered if he should check the internet. There was a bottle of it and a Muscadet in the fridge chilling, they had debated getting a wine cooler but space was a premium in this kitchen and it wasn’t like the fridge was over crowded.

The buzzer rang and Justin checked the time, Brian should be home, he’d been in meetings all afternoon with various offices at city hall regarding permits and oversight. So far they’d lucked out in that the buildings had no one trying to make them historical landmarks and the inspection for asbestos had come up negative on all but the backing of the linoleum in the flooring of the kitchens in the apartments and the roofing material and some of the insulation around the pipes. HD knew a company out in Westmoreland County that specialized in disaster restorations and they had a team that just removed asbestos. It was expensive but worth it and the owner didn’t make Brian want to punch him and may be signing on as one of Kinnetik’s customers so it was going well.

Justin used the intercom and found out it was Ted so he buzzed him up. He opened the door part way and while the elevator was rising went inside and opened the Muscadet. Ted had paperwork for Brian and Justin poured him a glass of wine and insisted he stay for dinner. Ted seemed reluctant as if Brian would bite his head off but he needed to wait for Brian’s signature anyway and Justin was interested in hearing about his dot com business.

It seemed Ted didn’t have the time to take as hands on approach as he had before due to the amount of business Brian was doing and had hired a site manager. The ‘A’ gays who had invested in his site had prompted Ted to come up with another idea and maybe Justin just seemed like a non-judgmental audience but Ted began to outline it while Justin added the dressing to the slaw and mixed in some pepper flakes and bacon bits. The was a large old warehouse near the Allegheny between the Strip and Lawrenceville which Ted was in the process of running the number on to see if his idea would be worth the needed expenditures to turn it into a combination, event venue, gym, and baths. The idea was you would pay membership fees and the club would have workout facilities, steam and sauna along with lockers and showers, but also rooms to hook up in, with linens and various necessities like condoms and lube, and there would be a small dance floor and multiple use venue for entertaining and private parties.

“It sounds,” Justin started and then stopped because he didn’t want to giggle.

Ted prompted, “Sounds like what?”

“Well if there was a golf course, I’d say it’s a gay country club,” Justin said. “And do I know the country club set.”

Ted pondered it and said, “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“You know the Rivers Club does really well, its downtown, has no land surrounding it but it has the banquet facilities for entertaining and the gym, the only thing it has that yours doesn’t is agreements with other country clubs to have guest privileges on their golf courses. But it would probably be worth looking at their business model,” Justin said.

Ted said, “The thing is I need to get the right people to join. If they’re there others will come.”

“Hot guys,” Justin said knowingly.

Ted said, “I was thinking ‘A’ gays.”

“Don’t ‘A’ gays want hot guys; don’t all gays want hot guys?” Justin asked, topping up Ted’s glass, “don’t you already have a business that specializes in hot guys? Wouldn’t a complimentary membership be an awesome perk to offer your porn guys? The gym would encourage them to keep in shape, maybe add in tanning and some grooming or spa features; all for additional fees of course”

The door rolled open and Brian came in and said, “Aw Honey, you cooked.”

Justin rolled his eyes at Ted and poured the last of the Muscadet into a glass for Brian. As he gave it to him with a kiss he said, “You have time to change but dinner will be just a couple minutes.”

While Brian went to change Justin steamed the vegetables and got Ted to help him extend the table to accommodate all of them. Ted had noticed it could go from eighteen inches to nine and a half feet the night before but must not have wanted to ask Brian about it. Justin told him about ‘Resource Furniture’ and directed him to their website. He recommended the company as a way to turn Ted’s guest room into an office with their beds that were concealed in walls and other space saving pieces. After setting the table Justin opened the Riesling and put it to breathe on the table.

Brian came out barefoot and in jeans and a tee shirt. He wrinkled his nose at the potato wedges, even when Justin assured him they were baked. Yet he passed on the steamed vegetables and took a second helping of the wedges. Over the years Justin had figured out stealthy ways to sneak green stuff into Brian, who despite his no carb rules did not get enough vegetables; Justin had never counted the iceberg lettuce of the endless salads he ate as a vegetable. Hence the broccoli slaw; which Brian usually ate.

Brian updated them on the ongoing battle with red tape and his frustration with not working or rather not having a large staff to yell at. Justin pointed out he did more when not working than most people did working and privately thought Brian missed Cynthia. Ted updated them on the status of most of their businesses. He also gave and overview three people who he’d met recently and that he’d given them the business plan template and told them how to present a request for review. Ted personally only thought one of them; a distillery was a good venture. Ironically even though historically Western Pennsylvania was the birth place of the Whiskey Rebellion; there were no longer any locally made whiskies. Brian pointed out that that was because of the Commonwealth’s crazy liquor laws and alcohol related taxes and reminded Ted to check those when looking over the business plan.

“Bri? You remember my friend Ami, who’s going to the culinary school?” Justin said.

Brian kept his attention on his dinner and said absently, “No. When did I meet her?”

“You didn’t but I told you about her,” Justin said, “We were talking and she’s graduating in June, anyway she has this idea, for a business; a meal service for busy professionals, like doctors or people that work weird schedules and might not be able to eat out all the time. She would have specific diets, like high fiber or low sodium and a list of meals to pick from and she stocks their refrigerators once or twice a week for them.”

Brian paused in the process of cutting his meatloaf, looked at Justin and said, “this is the girl you picked up at the grocery story isn’t it?”

“Picked up? Must you make it look like I troll for hetro women?” Justin asked.

Ted snickered and said, “If you have her email, I’ll send her a package, standard application, business plan model and contract template.”

“You should tell Brian about your club idea, I bet we could tie some other clients in, like Emmett’s event planning for the party venue and didn’t we back a tanning salon?” Justin asked.

After dinner Ted and Brian adjourned to the office area to go over the papers Ted brought and discuss his club idea. Justin cleaned up the kitchen while they worked. After Ted left, Brian and Justin ended up on the sofa in the living room area pretty much just kissing and staring into each other’s eyes.

It had taken years for them, or rather Justin, to enjoy a level of comfort with their disparity in incomes. While Justin had been successful, as in he was a working artist. Brian had had always made an embarrassing amount of money especially once he’d launched Kinnetik. While Justin made a respectable amount when he lived in New York, he’d never made the kind of money that would have supported his New York lifestyle, a secure apartment and studio space, without holding down a fulltime job in the art department of a firm like Kinnetik. Being Brian’s partner had paid for a level of comfort starving artists or even successful artists just couldn’t afford. Now, not even out of high school he was making more money from his art than he had probably made in his entire career combined. And still Brian was raking in an obscene amount of money, not that he wasn’t working for it but his investments and passive income streams were set so he could in theory sit his ass in a five star resort and just have hot guys shipped in for the next fifty years if that was what he wanted. But they were partners, it had taken years after he moved to New York for Justin to get comfortable with the fact that as far as Brian saw it, and him too but he always felt he contributed less, they were a team - a company of two, and while Brian may be the sales, the marketing the revenue generator of their team, Justin’s contribution was just as valuable and his position was secure, Brian was not looking to let anybody else into his heart. Lord knows he’d fought Justin getting in there.

So in between long slow lingering kisses, Justin drank in the sight of the most beautiful man he’d ever met. Brian’s lips deserved sonnets, the line of his jaw, his eyes so ever-changing, so revealing, containing all the colors of earth from green to gold to brown, so alive and intelligent. All of his physical beauty paled in comparison to his generous spirit and diabolical mind.

+

Brian couldn’t help but smile. Justin was above him, pressing him into the sofa. Deep kisses interspersed with those artist eyes drinking him in as if he were going to vanish any moment. They should be getting dressed, he’d half promised to meet Mikey for drinks at Woody’s. He figured he better break the ‘out of work’ news, Cynthia had to call him to say Michael had called for him at Vanguard. If he didn’t tell him soon Michael might get the wrong person and they’d spill the beans and then Brian would never hear the end of it. Justin leaned in and ran his tongue along Brian’s bottom lip. Then pulled back a scant inch to grin and gloat, like he got one over on him. His eyes were so close Brian could watch the muscles moving in and out to change the size of his pupil when he leaned in and shadowed the light. Those blues seemed unusually bright tonight. Justin had, in his left eye, the tiniest brown dot in the blue of that eye, hardly more than a pin prick. It was too bad Justin had never showed any interest in having kids. Brian had noticed before the reset, that Jennifer had the same dot on her right side. Since they’d been brunching on Sundays with Grandmother Corcoran, Brian had noticed she too had it on the same side as Justin. If the pattern kept up Justin’s kid would have it on the same side as Jennifer. Unless it was Daphne who talked him into breeding then the sprogs eyes would probably be brown. Justin had successfully dodged Daphne last time but had acquired a whole passel of girls who might want blue eyed babies.

“What are you thinking?” Justin said.

Brian could have said ‘that you have the most beautiful eyes’ or ‘if we could find someone to do all the gross parent stuff you’d make gorgeous babies’ but he settled for saying, “We need to hit Woody’s and break the news to Michael that I’m not with Vanguard, he’s been calling there for me.”

“God he’s like a jealous wife, why can’t he just call your cell?” Justin said.

Brian smirked, “Because I didn’t call him back.”

“Jealous wife,” Justin said, “and I’m the hot mistress keeping your from him. Has Mrs. Dr. David moved in with her man yet?”

Brian said, “Yeah, the lease is up next month. He was kind of bummed that Emmett wasn’t keeping the place, in case this all doesn’t work out.”

“Emmett has two guest rooms in HD’s loft so if Dave and Michael implode please tell me he’s moving in with Emmett or Ted. I find having him here while we’re having sex uber-creepy. It might even scar me impotent,” Justin said.

Brian made a snorting sound and said, “You have raging hard-ons in the most inappropriate times, and coming from me that’s saying something. There has never, in all the years I’ve known you, including when you’ve been drugged on pain killers, been a time you’ve been unable to get it up.”

“Sever psychological scarring, Brian. I know Hunter is in his old room but promise me your best friend and pseudo-brother will not be here listening to and possibly watching us have sex,” Justin said, and extended his pinky finger.

Brian said, “We are not, despite whom you spend the bulk of your time with, preteen girls. I am not pinky swearing – with you or anyone else. I promise. If Mikey shows up I will send him to someone with a guest room or put him up in a hotel until the next morning when he can go stay with someone with a guest room.”

“Or I will tell him I think he’s way too interested in my sex life and take out a restraining order,” Justin said.

Brian said, “You will not. He isn’t’. He’s just-”

“A whiney baby who wants all your attention and wishes we never met,” Justin said, “that hasn’t changed from before. I’ll work on getting along with him during the day, but keep him out of the bedroom; it makes me soft, just like needless sentiment does you. Should I dress for clubbing or are we just going for a drink?”

“You up for it, it’s a school night?” Brian said.

Justin said, “I can keep up with you and go to school, old man.”

Just for that comment Brian slid on his leather pants, paired with a black tank and ankle boots. Justin wore low cut grey trousers with a snake skin pattern and a silver long sleeve shirt made of wide netting material that just met the top of his trousers. When he raised his arms to dance his whole midriff would be exposed. Coming up behind him where he stood in front of the mirror Brian slipped his hands under the shirt and spread them over Justin’s six pack and whispered seductively in his ear, “you did remember to wash this first, right?”

Justin, who had leaned back into him at first touch and had been turning into him as he started to speak huffed out and said, “Yes, Mother.”

Brian slapped his ass hard and said, “You look hot.”

He was rewarded with a blinding smile and they grabbed their coats and headed out to Woody’s. Michael was there with Dave, neither was dressed for clubbing. Brian took his coat off at the entrance and signaled the bartender on his way to the table. He sat next to Michael and watched Justin greet the bartender and take their drinks; an Arnold Palmer for him and Brian’s beer to the table. As he set down the drinks, but before Justin could sit Dave asked, “I’m curious, Justin, how is it you get into Babylon?”

Justin stopped; Brian smirked because sometime Dave just pushed the age thing too much. Justin took off his coat and lifted his arms and flexed and stuck out his ass. The mesh shirt rode up; the hip huggers looked like only that bubble butt was keeping them up. Guys all around the room stopped to enjoy the sight. Justin’s religious practice of yoga and calisthenics had toned his already lean muscles into a mouthwatering package. Justin said, “I don’t know, but men just give me things.”

Brian barked out a laugh before saying, “Come sit on my lap, Lorelei.”

“Talk to me, Harry Winston,” Justin said, pushed his chair closer to Brian before sitting down and leaning in to kiss him.

Michael looked disapproving and Brian knew Justin found it hysterical coming from someone who aspired to be a doctor’s wife. When Brian let them know he was no longer with Vanguard Michael made a crack about Brian losing his sugar daddy status. Justin just said, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll buy you shiny things.”

“You’re really not the least bit concerned about losing your job?” Dave asked.

Brian smirked and said, “It’s all going according to plan.”

It wasn’t long after nine when Dave started making noises about having to work in the morning and Michael looked mournful as Brian and Justin parted with them, outside. Dave and he were off to their car and an early night and Brian and Justin were off to Babylon.

Brian called Lindsay the next day, not wanting her to hear it through the grapevine, read Michael. She made soothing noises apparently not believing that he was okay with it, and then asked him if he would watch Gus for a couple hours as it was one of Kal’s class days and she really need to go meet a client.

Once there, after she suitably consoled him over his tragic job loss Lindsay left them alone for a boys’ day or at least afternoon. They were on a blanket in the parlor, playing a grabbing game with the soft musical blocks. Gus was squealing his face split with a big gummy smile every time he got hold of one. He was starting to make repetitive sounds and it wouldn’t be long before there were words. Brian didn’t realize how wrapped up he was in there game until he was brought back to the real world by Mel saying, “I didn’t know you could juggle.”

That wasn’t really something he shared when sober; other than with Justin or Gus.

“I can’t really but he’s surprisingly uncritical,” Brian said.

+

Mel came in the back door through the kitchen, parking was easier that way. She left her keys by the door on a hook and peeked in the oven, surprised Lindsay didn’t have anything in there. The crockpot wasn’t perking away either. She hoped Lindsay hadn’t fallen asleep. Now that Gus tended to drop off for six hours at a time Lindsay had taken to dozing with him, especially on Tuesdays and Thursdays when Kal had class. That nap however usually resulted in her wandering the house in the wee hours of the morning.

Coming through the dining room she heard Gus making happy baby gurgling and chortling noises. He was also making the ‘da’ sound that Lindsay said meant Brian. Brian was on the floor, expensive jeans be damned, playing with Gus. The game seemed to involve multiple blocks and the fact that no matter which one Gus grabbed that there was always more for Brian to taunt him with and for Gus to take from him.

Gus could hold two and only two, one in each of his little baby fists. Brian, in his big daddy hands, could probably have held all of them but instead was showing Gus how he could keep three in the air while only touching two.

“I didn’t know you could juggle,” Mel said. Apparently she’d startled him, and the juggling skill must not be on his resume because she had the dubious pleasure of making Brian Kinney blush. Not many could claim that she’d warrant.

Brian, uncharacteristically modest, said, “I can’t really but he’s surprisingly uncritical.”

Okay, Mel thought, this is almost a civil conversation, really civil given our history. And you’ve considered this and come to a conclusion, she said to herself that the best course of action is to just plow in and get it over with. She sighed to herself; or not to herself because Brian was looking at her with dare she say concern.

“I have something to ask you and it’s awkward,” Mel said and then reminded herself not to be rude, or assume what his answer would be and to try and not antagonize him.

Brian turned toward her scoping up Gus and handing him a block to gum on, he said, “Okay.”

“Lindsay and I want to give Gus a sibling, and we’d like to do it soon so that they’re close in age,” she said.

Brian looked attentive but like he had no idea why she was telling him this and just said, “Okay.”

Obviously she was doing it wrong and Mel tried to channel her court persona and think of Brian like a judge because if she thought of him as Brian the word asshole would come up or given how she apparently had to spell everything out maybe idiot. To think the reason Lindsay had picked him, aside from how attractive he was, was she said he was intelligent. Mel was having trouble believing that. She said, “This time I would be the one getting pregnant,” and he just nodded to her, frustrated she added, “Brian, we want you to be the father, to come down to the fertility clinic and donate sperm again.”

“They have it already,” Brian said.

Mel was stunned and said, “how’s that?”

“I figured something might happen. And if Lindsay wanted another kid, it would be there for her. That way Gus and the new kid could swap organs if the need arose later in life,” Brian said.

Mel said, “So, in case you died you left sperm with a private fertility clinic?”

“Yeah, isn’t that the reason you’re asking me; because you want a kid that’s related by blood to Gus?” Brian asked.

Mel shrugged, “Mostly. I’d rather not bring a new variable in, you’re not a bad father – personally I still think you’re an asshole but you aren’t with Gus.”

“And if some health problem pops up it’ll be easier to rule out genetics if they have access to both biological parents which you can’t do with an anonymous donor,” Brian said.

Mel said, “Is that likely?” She watched Brian situating Gus back on the blanket in front of him on with access to his blocks while he answered.

“Well, when Gus was conceived as far as I knew we didn’t have cancer in the family, granted I don’t know how much of that is genetics and how much is life style but now that Pop has it, it’s a consideration, don’t you think?” Brian said.

“I hadn’t even thought of it,” Mel said, she had cancer in her own family and high blood pressure.

Brian sighed, “This isn’t some spur of the moment thing, right? You have taken into consideration that you’ll have two children, under the age of two. I’m pretty sure that in breeder culture that’s an actual curse you wish on your enemies.”

“We’ve talked about it, this way the kids will be close in age, and we’ve checked with the agency the cost isn’t greatly increased for an Au Pair. Kalti is actually looking forward to it, job security while he completes his Masters,” Mel said.

“Thank God; would hate to have you breaking in a new Au Pair with a new baby,” Brian said. “I’ll call the clinic and give authorization, you let them know when; I’m assuming you don’t want me there?”

Mel looked horrified and said, “No. Lindsay and I’ll take care of it.”

“We’re still going to butt heads over the circumcision if it’s a boy. But Justin did give me a long history of the Jewish faith. He almost converted, even talked to a rabbi but couldn’t go through with the operation himself. I have no problem with Gus being raised in the faith, or having the operation if it’s his choice, once he’s old enough to make the choice. But if it’s a girl, I’ll feel the same way about having her ears pierced. I just think body mods, like tattoos or piercings should be wait until their eighteen at least,” Brian said.

Mel smirked and said, “That’s surprisingly conservative of you. Especially since your lover isn’t even eighteen yet.”

“As Justin constantly points out he’s much more mature than the rest of us. And I don’t know about you but I made a lot of dumb ass decisions when I was eighteen; twenty one; twenty five; thirty-”Brian said.

Mel interrupted laughing, “you’re not thirty yet.”

“Give me time, I’m sure I will, even with Justin dogging me and telling me to be nice,” Brian said.

Mel was shocked, was she actually having a civil conversation with Brian Kinney, she offered, “nice can be overrated, and you seem to have this Dad thing down.”

“That’s easy, I just ask, ‘what would Jack do’ and do the opposite,” Brian said.

Mel decided to change the subject, “speaking of parents, we had dinner at with Ron and Nancy. For some reason, Lindsay insisted Kal attend at this command performance.”

“Of course, don’t let her WASPy manners full you, Lindz was setting the stage. Lynnette may have had two high society networking events disguised as weddings,” Brian said, “But Lindsay is showing her parents that she’s leading a life closer to the one they had planned for her. She’s carried on the blood line; she has a stable home, no divorce, live in child care. She’s trying to make Lynnie look like,” and Brian paused before he could say Paris Hilton because he figured she might still be a spoiled high school kid at this point and substituted, “a raucous party girl.”

Mel said, “So it’s some form of competition?”

“You’re an only child aren’t you?” Brian said, “It’s always a competition. Since your planning to add a sibling to the mix, get ready for ‘mom likes me best’ or ‘you’re the back-up child’ or my favorite, ‘they were going to abort you but couldn’t come up with the cash’.”

“You make it sound just like a Hallmark commercial,” Mel deadpanned.

Brian smirked and scrambled to get a block Gus threw. He said, “Have you ever spent any time with Lindsay and Lynnette, together?”

“I can’t say that I have,” Mel said.

Brian said, “at least Clare and I are openly abusive to each other, Linz and Lynnie are all smiles and syrupy sweet tones while sliding daggers into each other’s rib cages.”

Brian’s phone, which had slipped out of his back pocket vibrated and he grabbed it before Gus could. There was a ‘where r u’ text from Justin. Brian hit speed dial and when Justin answered he said, “I’m at the munchers,” he then shot a look at Mel and gave a one shoulder shrug while she tried not to laugh. “Pick something up on the way,” he said. “No it’s just Mel, Kal has class, Lindsay didn’t say she was taking her client to dinner but she’s not back yet.” Brian looked at Mel and asked, “Italian okay?” She nodded and he said, “Get enough to feed Lindz and the help. Later.”

“Don’t call him the help,” Mel said, “Ron and Nancy were bad enough. Apparently their club is restricted; they actually referred to him as African and had to change the location of dinner because of it. Piece of advice; Australians don’t like to be called African.”

“Canadians are the same way about us,” Brian offered.

Mel looked surprised and said, “I’ve heard they’re much more receptive to same sex pairings.”

Brian looked confused and said, “No us, as in Americans, they would be okay with you being a dyke but not receptive to you being a yank. Sort of the way we are with Mexicans. We’re okay with them being tourists and spending money, but if they want to work here, we want to send them home; that’s how Canadians think of us, come for the musicals but go home and stop eating up our health care budget.”

Mel went upstairs to change surprised that she managed a conversation with Brian and hadn’t needed to grind her teeth or call him an asshole. She texted Lindsay to let her know not to pick up dinner and to ask when she’d be home but didn’t get a reply.

Lindsay seemed happy with her new job. Granted she owed most of her success to Justin. Mel didn’t even think Justin should be paying her. The History Centre had put together the collection, all the memorabilia, the documentary and Justin’s art. They were the ones booking it at other venues. All Lindsay did was keep in touch with the Centre regarding where the collection was going, contact the other museums to confirm Justin’s attendance and regarding getting invitations to the opening sent to influential critics, some papers that the venues may not have considered close enough and to the concierges at the most prestigious hotels in the area. Brian usually took care of picking where they stayed and how they traveled. Although he had left rather pointed instructions for Lindsay to dialog with the museums regarding over programing Mr. Taylor and suggested she make it clear that the artist did not work for them, they had better not treat him as if he did. All interviews were to be cleared with Mr. Taylor beforehand, and if they wanted multiple interviews then they had to do it as a press conference, Brian didn’t want Justin doing back to back interviews with idiots who weren’t prepared. When Lindsay had pointed out she worked for Justin, not Brian, she’d been shocked that Brian had said, ‘no we’re partners, you’re our agent, Justin is the talent, the creative drive, I market and pitch and take care of the talent’. Mel has listened to Lindsay on the phone with Michael for an hour over that comment; the two of them trying to decide if partner was business or domestic.

By the time Mel took a shower and changed into worn jeans and a soft sweatshirt with ‘Amherst’ on it. There were voices murmuring downstairs. One was female but didn’t sound like Lindsay. When she came downstairs, that September girl was setting the table and Justin and Brian were on the floor with Gus.

“Hi,” September said, “I invited myself to dinner.”

Mel said, “That seems fair since you brought it. What are we having?”

“Braised beef tortelloni, shrimp Alfredo, salad and bread sticks. We didn’t bring dessert because Justin said Brian would have something called a queen-out.” September said and then whispered, “I have no idea what that is but I really want to see one.”

There were empty shopping bags with ‘Olive Garden’ next to the cold stove and two aluminum pans filled with pasta on the stove along one with soft hot breadsticks, a carton of warm red sauce for dipping the breadsticks in that Mel knew wasn’t served with them at the restaurant. When Mel took the pitcher of iced tea from the fridge there was another container with salad keeping cold. “You got enough to feed an army.”

“Justin really eats,” September said as she opened cabinets until she found a large bowl. As Mel mixed up more ice tea September filled the bowl with salad and using serving tongs and took it in to put on the table. When she came back from the dining room she had the decorative basket from the table and went right to the drawer they kept the tea towels in, took one out to line the basket and loaded it with bread. She added, “We only got four servings of each, you’ll be lucky if there’s enough for lunch tomorrow. Does your au pair eat like Justin?”

“He has a healthy appetited. I told Lindsay it will prepare us for Gus when he hits puberty,” Mel said, a bit take back by how familiar September seemed to be with the house she asked, “Have you been here before?”

“Once, when I babysat with Justin,” September said, “well he babysat I just kept him company. Not that Gus isn’t a great baby; I’m sure he is, but I kind of like them better when they can talk. I’m sure I’ll like mine if I have any but when all they do is sleep and crap, they’re just not that interesting. Are we plating the entrées in the kitchen or should I get serving platers?”

“See what the boys are having, will you? It will be less to clean up,” Mel said.

Brian opted for the beef, probably to avoid the fat in the Alfredo sauce and September and Justin had the shrimp. Mel had a little of each because they both smelled good. Brian, unlike Lindsay didn’t wrestle Gus into a high chair to have him sit and watch them eat. He spread the blanket on the floor between the two of them and let Gus continue to play and gurgle, occasionally offering him a new block to keep him interested. Justin and September updated Mel on the gay straight alliance they’d formed at their school. They both talked about their friend Daphne, who sounded like the next Ruth Bader Ginsberg despite apparently planning on going to medical school, who was the group’s president. Even Brian seemed to have a fondness for Daphne and a tolerance at least of September.

Kal came in and joined them, September jumping up to help serve him or to flirt with him judging by the eye roll Justin sent Brian. They talked about a reno that September’s cousin was working on and how she wanted him to take her through it over the weekend. They talked about a fundraiser they were trying to get approval for at school to set up a coffee station. Mel pointed out that something like that might work in office buildings as well, especially in months where it was cold and wet and people might not want to venture outside to the nearest coffee shop. Kal pointed out that most campus dorms would require you to leave to eat and college students although short on cash were often big coffee drinkers. It was nice to have a meal that didn’t involve trying to teach a four month old to sit quietly or devolve into a discussion of their budget.

When they were all finished Mel started to get up but Justin stopped her and said, “Sep, make some decaf will you?”

“Sure,” she chirped from the kitchen. Kal had taken his and Justin’s plates in with him and not come out. The water at the sink was running and soon the coffee maker was gurgling.

“Yeah Mel,” Brian said softly, “no cockblocking.” He handed yet another of the soft blocks to Gus who was starting to sleepily blink up at them.

“How old is she?” Mel asked quietly.

Justin whispered, “Jeeze Mel, she doesn’t want to marry him. Try to be respectful of breeder culture. This is just the first step in their elaborate courtship rituals.”

“I’m so glad we’re fags and just get to the fucking right away,” Brian said. “Is it true dykes have to move in together before they put out?”

She was not going to laugh, not at Brian Kinney and his typically disrespectful attitude to both the gay and straight communities, even if he was funny. Mel then heard the front door open. Lindsay came in looking red cheeked and windblown. Mel met her and took her hands, “my god, Linz your hands are like two blocks of ice.”

“The battery died,” she said. “I called triple ‘A’ but apparently everyone’s battery died due to the cold it took forever for someone to come.”

“Baby why didn’t you call, I would have come and got you,” Mel said.

Brian said, “I hope they replaced it.”

“I did call you, it went to voice mail. The guy who charged it said it was still good,” Lindsay said, “and he didn’t have one that fit it in his truck.”

Brian groaned and said, “I’ll stop by tomorrow and take it into the shop and get a new one.”

“Brian, you don’t need to,” Mel said.

Brian shrugged and said, “Gus could be with you the next time; and Lindz, if you couldn’t reach Mel; why didn’t you call me?”

“You were with Gus,” she said as if that made any sense at all.

“Who I can dress and put in his carrier, which snaps into my car and I could have come and got you, or I could have called Justin and had him stay with Gus while I came and got you, or Justin and September could have picked you up. You’re not alone; you have family, just let us know when you need us,” Brian said.

Justin’s WASP instincts must have kicked in and he asked, “Lindsay you look half frozen, did you want to take a hot bath or are you hungry? We have decaf on if you want some coffee.”

“I’m starving,” she said, “I even ate a granola bar I found in my purse. I have no idea how old it was.”

“Would you like beef tortelloni or shrimp Alfredo; or some of each?” Justin asked.

Lindsay chose some of each and Justin went into the kitchen to plate it for her. September and Kal emerged brining Lindsay a mug of coffee. Sep said, “Kal’s going to show me his room. I told him HD was the one who worked on it and I want to see.”

Justin brought Lindsay two plates, one empty to serve the salad and bread still on the table and the other with both entrées. He made another trip and brought mugs of coffee for the rest of them along with cream and sugar. Brian asked, “Are we obligated to take the teenaged girl we brought? She does have her own car here. Speaking of which, isn’t it time you knuckled under and got a car?”

Justin made a grumbly noise and picked up Gus; who Lindsay had been eyeing as if having the kid on the floor in the dining room was any different than having him on the floor in the living room; Mel just didn’t get it and apparently neither did Brian.

“Maybe for my birthday,” Justin said, “I just think we bought our share of cars with your new one.”

“You got a new car?” Lindsay said.

Brian shrugged and offered, “Had to, the Jeep was a company car. Of course I used my awesome negotiating skills to get them to move the car seat base from the old Jeep to the new Jeep.”

“They let you take the company car to shop for a new one once they fired you?” Mel said.

Brian said, “No, they gave me a week to perform stupid human tricks to try and save my job, in that time I drove by the Jeep lot, picked the newest model that had everything my company car had and a few more bells and whistles, because why the fuck not, and bought it. Justin drove the company car home; I drove the new one and just handed the keys over at the end of the week. The idiot let me go so now the non-compete agreement is invalid and I can start my own agency and teach him that I’m a bigger threat when I’ve ‘lost the hunger’ than any clueless newbie he hires who will be living on the thought of a bonus that may never come.”

“Brian that sounds so risky,” Lindsay said.

Brian said, “bigger the risk, bigger the reward. I already have meetings line up out of town next week. I’m leaving Monday, if you need anything just call Justin he has access to all the accounts and my POA, and medical proxy.” Lindsay’s eyes widen and Mel wondered why, sure the idea of calling a seventeen year old was weird but they were unlikely to need to call Brian. Mel figured he was just putting it out there if an emergency arose and letting them know Justin could access anything he could. Brian added, “I’ll call the clinic but if they need anything he can sign for me.”

“Oh,” Lindsay said, she looked back and forth between Brian and Mel and added, “You two talked. You’re going to…”

“What?” Justin asked.

Lindsay looked reluctant to answer so Brian said, “Gus is going to be a big brother.”

Justin down smiled at Gus who was almost asleep in his arms and said, “Gus is going to be an awesome big brother. Oh, you mean now,” he looked from Lindsay to Mel, who kind of waved a hand like ‘it’s me’, “Really? That’s wonderful. But I hope you’re prepared to cut back, what was it they said in ‘Steel Magnolia’s’ ‘you have to be kinder to your circulatory system’.”

Brian looked at him like he was crazy and Mel said, “I think she was a diabetic. And women have been giving birth in rice fields, slinging the child over their breast and getting right back to work for thousands of years.”

“Women in rice fields don’t have the kind of stress lawyers have,” Justin said and looked over to Brian as if he expected back up.

Brian said, “Don’t look at me. I’ve never nor will I ever have an entire person living inside me, and how did you put it right after Gus was born? Oh that right: feeding off me until they get strong enough to fight their way out. Seriously sunshine, Planned Parenthood needs you to make their speeches. Talk about population control.”

“You should hear his STD lectures,” September said coming into the dining room, minus the au pair. “I mean his blow job tips are awesome but the STD thing had me wanting to live in a plastic bubble.”

“Blow job tips?” Lindsay said looking to Mel for some kind of back up.

Mel snickered at how red Justin turned but he jutted up his chin and said, “The St. James SGA has a standing Friday outing for testing and offers a drop box if students don’t want their results sent to their home address. We believe in promoting sexual responsibility and informed consent is paramount to a healthy sex life.”

“It’s in our mission statement,” September said.

September left when Brian and Justin did. Mel put Gus to bed and came down as Lindsay was loading the dish washer and said, “Baby seriously, why would you not have tried the landline, surely you knew I’d be home and even if you didn’t think Brian could help, you had to know we were worried.”

“None of you seemed worried,” Lindsay said, “you all were having a wonderful time. When did you and Brian become friends?”

“I was worried, I called you it rolled to voice mail,” Mel said, “Brian had no idea if you were late, you said a couple of hours, you didn’t tell him where you would be or by what time to start checking hospitals. And you know how much I was dreading asking him, we’re not friends, we probably won’t ever be but we’re parents to the same child and eventually children. It didn’t go nearly as bad as I thought it would. Did you know he already has sperm on deposit at the clinic? He had it there in case he died and you wanted another baby.”

“Oh my God,” Lindsay said. “Why would he think he’s going to die?”

Mel shrugged, “Because we made him take out a life insurance policy? I mean he didn’t say, but I get the feeling that we, or okay, me; in making cracks about him not being a responsible parent had him taking steps to see if he couldn’t be here for us in person, things would be taken care of. He didn’t say anything but I wouldn’t be surprised if he has some sort of education account set up for Gus as well. This isn’t the first time he’s told us to call Justin if we need anything if he’s out of town.”

“Because we’re likely to need a seventeen year old boy,” Lindsay said. “Kal is far more useful than Brian’s arm candy.”

Mel snickered and said, “Oh baby, you sound jealous.”

“I’m not, but really, he’s a high school senior,” Lindsay said. “Personally I never saw Brian as the settling down type but I picture someone, well not like Ted but maybe like HD. A grown up who’s useful or at least has a job.”

Mel said, “Personally I think in a crisis Brian Kinney is as useful as tits on a bull. But his ‘throw money at a problem’ solution does smooth out things like our child care needs and you wanting to be a stay at home mom but still remaining active in the art world. That high school senior has set up a non-profit and according to one of the partners at my firm has all but taken, at least financially, responsibility for a troubled teen.”

“That boy Debbie and Vic took in?” Lindsay said, “She’s been agitating to have us round to dinner this Sunday to have the whole ‘family’ meet him.”

Mel said, “Poor kid, this crew is a bit much to take all at once.”

+

Later that night on the dance floor, Brian let out a growl and glared up at the DJ’s booth. He said, “Really, Belinda Carlyle?”

“It’s ’80s night,” Justin said loudly, dancing up against him, “you should like it; you remember the ’80s.”

“I was like; nine,” Brian said, “And I never listened to this lesbeonic crap.”

“Something about you, right here beside me,” Justin sang, causing Brian to laugh, whether it was at the lyrics or his singing he wasn’t sure. Since the particular song had sent an exodus to the bar, Brian took him in his arms and they started a modified four beat rhumba. Brian added a few sweeping lifts and had Justin laughing so hard that if Brian hadn’t had his arms round him he’d have ended up on his ass.

Once the crowd at the bar thinned out they got some bottles of water and found David and Michael there. Justin figured Michael might still end up JR’s dad, especially if Mel had a boy. Brian had pointed out during one of their philosophical time travel discussions that even if Mel and Michael went to the clinic the same day the baby conceived might not be JR. Justin figured he would follow Mel and Brian’s lead on when and how they broke the news of their pending child to everyone else.

While Mikey and Brian were touching base and Brian was reassuring Michael he didn’t need to collect unemployment. Justin somehow ended up in a discussion about computers with Dave. Who apparently was now chatting online with his son a couple times a week and seemed to be interested in what Justin knew about online multiplayer games. Justin was tempted to point out that his own relationship with his father had never included the two of them hunting zombies together over the internet. He admitted to only knowing art programs and never really having got in to gaming but suggested Dave talk to Hunter for details on gaming and if he were looking for tips to be cool to kids that age. From the odd look he received, Justin realized he should have probably not referred to Hunter and Dave’s kid as kids since to Dave he appeared to be a kid as well.

Apparently Hank, Dave’s kid, was coming to visit in a couple weeks and Dave was mapping out the best weekend ever, trademark pending. Justin suggested they look in to some summer programs while the kid was here based upon whatever Hank was interested in and pointed out CMU had some really cool art programs.

“Over the summer?” Dave asked.

Justin said, “I thought you had shared custody? I mean, I get that during the school year they don’t want to disrupt his schedule, but doesn’t he come and stay with you in the summer?”

“Well, he never has my ex-wife thinks he’s better with her and her new husband,” Dave said. “That it’s more stable.”

“That’s a little harsh, if you have shared custody she should actually make an effort to share. She’s sending a message to the kid on an unconscious level that men are replaceable. I could see if you didn’t want him around, but if you’re willing to adjust your life and schedule, he could do anything he was planning to do at home here. Brian has a rep for being unstable, not that its deserved of course, but even Gus comes to stay with us when the girls need some alone time,” Justin said. “You would think your wife and her new husband would want some time alone to keep their own marriage stable.

Around the time Michael and Dave were leaving Ted showed up with arm candy from his new venture. A blond hunk, who he’d help pick out the porn name Duke Hancock. While Ted and Brian talked business, Duke told Justin his real name was Will Peterson, which Justin didn’t think was an improvement. He was a frat boy from Pitt and felt that online porn was a step up from stripping. Justin thought back to the unreportable income of his dancing days and considered if Will was applying for State funding of his education that the amount Ted was paying some of his ‘stars’ might impact that since Ted actually filed tax returns for his employees.

Ted apparently wanted Will well rested and was keeping him off the dance floor so Justin found Emmett and dragged him out it dance. HD was there but looked to be diagraming some sport’s play with bar napkins, swizzle sticks and condom packages to a couple of the security guys. It was hard to talk on the dance floor but not impossible. Em was glowing with happiness as he was working on his first wedding. He was also planning a big house warming bash/launch party for the lofts, probably by the end of the month. Justin told him when he and Brian would be out of town, since between Brian’s business trips and his art March was pretty busy. With all the hours HD was putting in on Brian’s HQ reno, Em said he’d be surprised if they were able to fit it in before April. Justin told Em that he wanted to head off any embarrassing death day parties scheduled for Brian’s thirtieth birthday in May and wanted to hire him to do something to launch the new offices when they were complete. Brian, when he decided to come fetch him had brought HD so Em just moved over to HD without a break and they waived good night before leaving.

+

Kinnetik was formed, at least on paper, a week after Gardner let Brian go. And by the end of Brian’s business trip it would officially have only three clients, besides TKVC’s various start-up companies; the airline in Dallas, the software company in Phoenix and a health care company in San Diego. So far other than Brian and Justin the only employee it had was Shelley Gorman from Ryder’s graphic design team. Shelley was being kept in the dark about Cynthia being their inside man, but was aware they were planning to poach from Vanguard. Shelley still lived with her parents out in Fayette County but they had room for her to set up a studio and Brian had bought Kinnetik advanced computers and printers, for both their loft and Shelley’s parents’ home. She had been saving up to get a place of her own closer to the city, to avoid the arduous bus ride on county transit, but her being fired had derailed that. She had a car, but the bus was cheaper than driving it in and paying to park. While Brian was away, Justin had taken her over to Emmett and HD’s lofts and she was on a waiting list for the smallest one.

Ted was still being paid through TKVC and given the amount of work Kinnetik had it seemed reasonable to keep him busy with all the businesses. He seemed to be enjoying investing in people himself. His investors in the porn site were pleased and Brian had said he wouldn’t be surprised if it was Ted who ended up buying Babylon this time. Justin wondered if Ted avoided rehab would he ever reconnect with Blake, or would he end up with someone else. He wasn’t likely to get with Emmett given how attentive HD was but Will seemed unlikely. Not only was he too young, given Ted’s previous tastes, but Justin was pretty sure he was straight and for once Brian agreed with him.

Mel asking Brian to father her child had truly thrown Justin for a loop. He remembered as he approached his own thirtieth birthday, Brian had actually offered to hire a surrogate, if Justin wanted a kid. Given they were living in separate cities and flying back and forth almost weekly it seemed insane but very Kinney-esk. Brian from almost the day they met had pushed for Justin to take advantage of every opportunity and to truly experience life. Given that Daphne had been hauling around Marcus, an inquisitive and endearing toddler at that time, it was understandable that Brian might think Justin had developed some form of nesting instinct but honestly it had just sounded exhausting. By that time Gus had been ten and embodied all the best parts of Brian and oddly Mel. He’d been open, honest and while he had a brain to mouth filter that kept most of his pointed observations being voiced only to his moms or Brian and Justin the kid saw through bullshit like nobody’s business.

This idea of Mel’s though had Justin oddly excited. He’d had the wonder of watching Gus grow up and now the idea that there would be another little piece of Brian in the world made him understand, perhaps for the first time why Brian had made that weird offer. Justin had never worried about leaving anything behind, besides his art, after he was gone, but having lost Brian, the thought that Gus was still in the world had been oddly comforting; the thought that the rest of humanity would have the opportunity to see some of the wonder that was Brian in his kid and grandkids.

As much as he occasionally dreaded the thought that all this could end at any time, being some elaborate hallucination on his part he was getting excited to see what the future brought. Not just for his old friends but his new ones as well. And now he was excited to see some of the changes and if things would work out better or just different.


	57. Let me show you around

 

 

Brian and Justin picked up Gus early Sunday morning, with the understanding they would return him at dinner with Deb that night. Mel and Lindsay were going to a gallery and having lunch with friends. Justin was kind of surprised that he and Brian were included in Deb’s definition ‘family’ given how often they both seemed to be in the Deb’s dog house. But they’d been together, in Debbie’s eyes at least, three months and in Brian years that was long-term. Ted and Emmett weren’t in her idea of family yet and it hadn’t been until after Emmett moved in that they had regularly been invited to ‘family’ dinners. In fact Lindsay and Mel hadn’t been included until after Mel was pregnant with JR. Friends, yes, but not family until then. Brian had usually been the only non-blood, non-resident included in family dinners up to that point.

So, other than Deb, Vic and Hunter, it was supposed to be Michael and David, Lindsay and Mel and Brian, Gus and him at this family dinner. No way would they have seating for nine and if Deb wouldn’t have flipped out Brian would have offered to pay for a restaurant.

As it was they’d stopped at Redstone for brunch, Gus was holding court with his fan base, Brian and Bertie were deep in conversation, probably plotting world domination. Bertie was tickled that Brian was launching his own agency. Justin and his grandmother were just chatting and enjoying each other’s company. He told her he was thinking of sleeping at the studio while Brian was away that week and that he was looking forward to their trip to Dallas.

He mentioned stopping at the Saturday night social when they were in New York and how much he and Brian liked dancing together. Elizabeth had been quite the ballroom dancer in her day and had won competitions at the club when his grandfather had been alive. She was surprised that there were places, other than country clubs, that still hosted ballroom dancing. Justin told her there were in New York but Pittsburgh was limited, although a few clubs that had Salsa nights and Latin dancing completions.

Gus was getting more active and Justin retrieved him as most of the ladies were heading off to a class. Elizabeth said, “You look so natural with him.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, it’s a long time until Molly’s going to have one,” Justin said.

Elizabeth looked surprised and said, “You don’t think you’ll want children?”

“Well, I’m seventeen. So right now, no. But for all intent, Brian’s kids will be mine; at least I’ll spend as much time with them and love them as if they were mine,” Justin said. “We really have the best of both worlds. We can work crazy hours, go on trips for business or pleasure and know Gus is loved and cared for and safe with his moms. I don’t think I could ever be a full time parent. Maybe that makes me selfish but even if I were Brian’s age I can’t see being with a kid constantly. I don’t know how Mom did it.”

Gus must have caught sight of Brian because he let out a squeal and started waiving his hands and kicking his feet. Brian turned to them, a completely open unguarded smile on his face and Justin felt his heart swell at the sight. That was another thing to love about Gus; no one put that look on Brian’s face. Only Gus had ever had the power to strip away every wall, every defense and show Brian as he would have been without Jack and Saint Joan trying to fix him, toughen him up, or make him right in the eyes of God. To think that now there might be another little one who could put that look on his face. Brian with a daughter; there was a thought. He had spoiled Michael’s little girl without the added daddy factor. Justin said, “There’s Daddy, do you see him? That’s Daddy.”

Gus’ squeals changed to da sounds and Justin was sure his first real word would be dada. Brian reached out and lifted Gus up and said, “Hey Gus, did you forget I was here? No wonder, off wooing the women already.”

Gus settled down and fell asleep in Brian’s arms. Despite Brian constantly complaining about Justin bringing old people into his life, just to have him get attached and then they’d die, Bertie and Brian seemed to have developed a healthy father/son type relationship. They talked and Brian really listened, not his pretend listen where he could play back the conversation word for word but still thought everything said was so much rubbish. Brian asked for advice and would reason out his plans with Bertie to see if they sounded solid. Granted Brian had a knowledge of the future that Bertie didn’t but Bertie had a life time of experience in business and knew where a lot of bodies were buried, metaphorically speaking.

The three of them headed back to the loft and lounged around in bed until Gus woke up and then played with him before heading over to Deb’s. They were the last to arrive at Deb’s house. Not because of Brian being fashionably late. They were on time for a change, but Justin got the impression the others had arranged to arrive early, it had the feel of walking into a room where people had been talking about you.

Justin and Vic started a discussion over in the corner about the fundraiser idea of the coffee station. Since the Alliance couldn’t hit office buildings while school was in session he was sharing the idea of getting permission from some of the larger buildings down town to do a fundraiser for the Liberty House. They should be able to make a profit on coffee sold in the lobby’s and would only need to man the table for a couple hours each morning.

Justin craned his neck, Lindsay, Michael and Brian had gone out into the back yard. Given it was March, mid-March and most of Pittsburgh was covered in a shiny coat of ice, he couldn’t figure out why. With Gus here they wouldn’t be getting high. David didn’t approve of using illegal drugs, neither did Mel and Brian had given up cigarettes. Dave was grilling Hunter about games and gaming systems. Debbie was fussing over Gus and Mel was watching her like she was crazy and given Debbie’s baby talk that could have been warranted.

Justin looked at Vic, leaned in and quietly asked, “Please tell me they’re not staging some sort of intervention?”

“I’d like to tell you that,” Vic said. “But I wasn’t let in on the planning session.”

Justin cussed under his breath and said, “They’re not the ones who have to go home with him when they get him all riled up and pissed off.”

When the three of them finally came back in all red and windblown, Brian was visibly angry. Michael was looking smug and Lindsay was looking guilty. The guilt however could have been from the irritated look Mel shot her. Apparently the munchers were not united on the advisably of cornering the baby daddy and voicing opinions on his sex life. Justin was contemplating if he could get away with giving Michael a lap full of whatever pasta dish drenched in red sauce Deb would be serving today.

Deb finally relinquished Gus to Brian and harried Michael out to help in the kitchen. Lindsay and Mel where whispering in the corner; and Dave finally broke away from Hunter and came over to where Vic and Justin were.

Dave had an uncomfortable look and Justin tried to discretely look around for a way to plausibly exit quickly. Because as weird as a forty five year old father asking a thirtysomething guy for advice, having him ask a seventeen year old for it was a whole new step into the Twilight Zone.

“You know,” David said, “I’ve been watching you. Michael seems too irritate that hell out of you. It’s almost like when he’s around you’ve been asked to babysit Brian’s younger brother.”

“You’re just saying that because you overheard me call him Captain Cockblock,” Justin said, provoking a bark of a laugh from Vic.

Dave laughed at that too and said, “Actually I didn’t but that’s a good one. The thing is, to me it’s obvious that he has a crush on Brian. It really bothers me, but you. I don’t get it, I really don’t. It doesn’t seem to bother you at all.”

“I have three advantages that you don’t,” Justin said, “One, I really don’t see Michael as a sexual being. He does register to me as Brian’s little brother - Brian’s ten year old little brother - he whines and demands attention and doesn’t like anyone Brian might want to spend time with, who isn’t him. I’m pretty sure you can’t look at Brian and not think of sex. There isn’t a gay man or a straight woman who can.”

Dave snorted and shook his head but smiled. Vic hummed his agreement and Justin continued, “Two, I know that despite this so called crush or maybe because of it, Michael doesn’t really see Brian, his crush is on who he thinks Brian is, or who he thinks he should be. Anything that doesn’t fit into this, idealized version of Brian he’s created in his head, he pretty much ignores. If it’s any consolation in regard to your relationship, because the two of you don’t have that weight of the past and all those misperceptions, Michael probably knows you better than he knows Brian. He didn’t come to you with preconceived expectations; he took the time to get to know you and to listen to you without a filter of what should be imposed over everything.”

Justin started to get up to join Brian and Gus but Dave said, “Wait, you said three.”

“Three, Brian thinks of Michael as a brother, not a trick and I know that he loves me,” Justin said.

Furniture had to be moved and a card table was set up on one end of the table but somehow they managed to get everyone seated around it, despite the differences in shape and heights. Justin was foreseeing his planned mishap with Michael and a plate of pasta being much more plausible. Brian caught his eye, as he passed the salad, with the kind of knowing look that had Justin convinced he’d just read his mind.

After they’d all been served and complimented Deb on the meal, silence descended. Other than Deb chiding everyone to eat more it was awkward and Lindsay was looking guiltier and Michael was looking less smug. Justin would have been willing to WASPoff with Lindsay but she didn’t seem to be in a state to make the requisite small talk and asking Hunter how his case was going seemed inappropriate. Brian was practically radiating his trademark rage at the room in general.

Finally Deb slammed her silverware against her plate and said, “What the fuck is going on?”

Dead silence greeted her question, Lindsay looked like she wanted to bolt and Michael was now looking guilty. Brian just glared at them all and Mel looked utterly exasperated.

Justin gently set his cutlery on his plate, wiped his mouth and said, “Captain Cockblock here organized some sort of intervention. Let me guess, you and the baby mama ambushed Brian to tell him how concerned you were that the gold-digging slut was going to run off with his son’s inheritance?”

If nothing else that got Brian to smirk and drawl, “Neither of them can do math to save their lives.”

“What does that mean? And don’t call me Captain Cockblock,” Michael said.

“But you knew it was you, right?” Justin said.

Lindsay said primly, “I don’t like the term baby mama.”

“Lindsay, you’re my agent. Forty paintings, five hundred lithographs in this second run, averaging two hundred apiece,” Justin said.

Lindsay looked uncomfortable and Brian said, “That comes to four million for those of you who work retail.”

“Minus, production costs and shipping and all the other associated costs in selling them. It took a little over four months to sell out the first run of one hundred so it might take years to sell all these but we have Atlanta booked after Dallas and there’s talk of Miami and Boston after that,” Justin said, “the point being made is; I have a job. I also work with Brian on a venture capital business we’ve started. And I’m doing some work for Kinnetik.”

“What’s Kinnetik?” Deb asked.

“Brian’s advertising agency,” Justin said, “he’s his own boss now; which is why he’ll be out of town this week.”

“I’ll actually be meeting Justin in Dallas and coming home after next weekend,” Brian said. “And while I appreciate the sentiment,” Justin snorted because sentiment was something Brian never appreciated or even liked, “behind the sudden need for everyone to put their two cents in regarding my competence to lead my own life – and please take this in the spirit its given, Fuck Off. I’m a big boy, I have been drilling who I please for years now, if I want to fuck a different guy every night, none of your business, If I want a seventeen year old in my bed and in my loft and in my life, none of your business. He’s here, he’s staying, you can get used to it; or not, I don’t care.”

Brian left early Monday, unspeakably early, to catch a flight to San Diego. Justin dragged through the day and Daphne was threatening to kick his morose ass by lunch time. He had driven Brian’s jeep since Brian hadn’t wanted to leave it at the airport and had packed it with uniforms for school and his clean paint clothes. He went straight to his studio and worked though dinner. After nine he hit the sushi place and called Brian and they had dinner over the phone while Brian had room service ceviche. They talked over his lunch meeting and the fact he expected a signed contract by nine the next day, West Coast time.

Justin offered to meet with Ted and Shelley to go over the campaign for the health care company since he’d done the animation but Brian said he’d probably need him more after the Phoenix meeting to translate Brian’s vision so that some preliminary work could be done before they both got back on Monday. Brian had moved his flight up to Phoenix and changed his hotel reservation, preferring to get acclimated for his Wednesday morning meeting with the software company which would be more of a print campaign and better suited to Shelley’s skills. They mostly talked business and Brian said that HD was optimistic they might be in their offices by July. Justin kind of wished they still had his mom working real estate, and then he pulled her old bosses name out of the cobwebs in his brain and asked, “Do you remember, Judith or Julia Altman?”

“That worked with your mom?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “She did some short term commercial leases too, remember. Think she could find a place we could set up for maybe around six months? If you get all these clients and I know you’re planning to hit Brown hard just to piss off Vance. You’re going to need a bigger staff and we need a place to put them until ours is ready. Renos never come in on time or under budget. Even I know that much.”

“Can you call her?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “Maybe we should have Ted do it, and not just because people look at me and laugh when I talk business. But he is your finance officer. I’ll call Ted and let him know we talked, people are less likely to try and screw him because he doesn’t look seventeen.”

“Almost eighteen,” Brian said, “before you know it, I’ll have to trade you in on a younger model.”

They wrapped up the call before it could degenerate to ‘I love you, I miss you, please take me with you,’ and Justin called Ted and told him the agency and the name and to see if they could find a short term lease that would accommodate a staff of up to twenty people that wouldn’t make Brian’s head explode. He told him he didn’t have to find it before Monday but to try to get the field narrowed down and then Brian would pick. He updated him that Brian expected to pick up the contract in the morning and would be heading to Phoenix early.

Before going to bed, Justin went online and moved his flight from Friday to Thursday. Even if Brian was wrapped up with clients he could at least sleep with Brian on Thursday night. He didn’t plan on telling Brian not wanting to hear how Justin shouldn’t miss school.

Tuesday was much the same, but instead of morose he was busy. He spent most of his morning study hall on the phone with their security company, arranging not only for a deadbolt and new locks but the installation of cameras in outside the door of the loft with a close circuit screen so they could see who if anyone was out there before opening the door. The new system was higher tech and would show which codes, there were up to ten that could be used at a time, opened the door each time, and a log of times dates and codes would be sent to Brian’s email and cc’ed to Justin each month. Justin also asked if they could send a representative next week to tour the new building and recommend what system should be installed while the work was happening and what should be built into it for day-to-day operations.

He gave them HD’s name and contact information as the site manager and also mention that he was a property developer who might be interested in details on using their service so recommended the rep bring him a residential package suitable for a holding like their loft. He texted HD with the time and date the rep would tour the site next week and gave him the contact number of the sales rep if he needed to move the appointment or wanted him to bring any specific information for his own properties. When he wrapped up the call, while he was sending the text he noticed the teacher monitoring study hall was looking at him strangely and guessed him running a business was not what she expected to hear.

In the afternoon study hall he touched base with Ted, confirmed the contract had been signed and what all needed to be done by when. He suggested Ted get the art twins’ numbers from Cynthia and have them both come in for interviews Tuesday. When Ted asked where, Justin blanked and then said, “Lunch at the Capital Grill? I hear we get our best people that way.” Ted took it as a compliment and said he’d take care of it and the reservations at the restaurant.

He called Shelley who was stressing over how much work Brian was generating for her and asked if she wanted to meet and review the strategy. She was still out in Fayette County until April first so he concentrated in calming her down and translating Brian’s vision in to a language you didn’t have to sleep with him to understand.

After school he picked up KFC and let it congeal in the kitchen while touched base with Mr. Ferris at the History Centre. He offered to let him see what he was working on, but said he really needed a historian to show the work in its best light, someone who loved the music and the era as much as Stella had loved the girls she worked with.

Mr. Ferris when he realized Justin was calling from his studio asked if he and Ms. Hoffmann could stop by just to get a scope of what they were talking about. Justin said he expected to be heading for the opening in Dallas soon but if they just wanted to take a peek he had no problem with them seeing the work in progress.

So he changed out of his uniform and ate in between arraigning his finished work to best display it and turning on all the lights. He had twenty two completed paintings two in progress and one more planned. Of course if he had a good historian he might see some others that needed to show case a story or place but this was all he had on his own and twenty five seemed like a good number.

He washed his greasy hands and made some more ice tea and lemonade to offer his guest. He was reviewing his work and wished the lengthy short painting in the master bedroom could be hung at eye level. As he heard a car pull into the drive, it occurred to him for the first time that they might not want to show his work, but he swallowed his fear and met them at the door with a smile.

“It’s good to see you both, thank you for stopping by. Can I get you something to drink?” He said taking Ms. Hoffmann’s coat.

She smiled and said, “Thank you for making time for us. I hear you’ve been a smash in Chicago, San Francisco and Phoenix. You must be looking forward to the rest of the tour.”

“Traveling has its ups and downs but it’s been a wonderful excuse to tour their museums and galleries,” Justin said.

“That’s Miss Birdie,” Mr. Ferris said with reverence looking at one of the largest paintings.

Justin said, “There aren’t many photos of Mrs. Dunlap but she made quite an impression on many musicians and music lovers so I’ve read some accounts. She must have been amazing. That’s why I thought of the History Centre. I know WQED did a documentary on Wiley Avenue and thought that might run in your media center the way Stella’s did for the burlesque exhibit. But what this needs is a historian, or a fan; an enthusiast who can breathe life into the hard facts and newspaper accounts.”

While Ms. Hoffmann wandered the living area and to the partially complete painting in the breakfast room, Justin guided Mr. Ferris into the master bedroom and said, “I remember you like big work. This is actually as long as the dressing room scene but only three feet high. I wanted it hung at window height it’s supposed to give the feel of looking out on to the street at night.”

“I have twenty five pieces planned and only three more to finish, but if your historian or whomever you choose to flesh out the details feels there is something that should added, I’d be happy to work with them and add some more,” Justin said.

Mr. Ferris was absorbed in the painting. It was a tossup between the one with Miss Birdie or this one as to which would be the show piece of the collection. Justin thought Miss Birdie would look much better on a program, but if they folded it right they could put this one along the one side and all the details and information on the other side.

Ms. Hoffmann wandered in as Mr. Ferris said, “you never fail to knock me off my feet, Justin. This could be as popular as the burlesque tribute, a different crowd mostly but some overlap. It might take time to present it the way you want.”

“I trust you, you did a wonderful job with Stella’s memorabilia and I’d rather it was done right than done fast. I’d like to work the same deal for lithographs as before. The first run of one hundred and only after all of them sell will the second run of five hundred be printed, no need to get greedy and saturate the market,” Justin said. “I would like to know if the Centre has secure storage available while the exhibit is being worked on, frankly even with the security on the studio, I’m uncomfortable just leaving them here.”

“That we can do immediately or tomorrow if you want, at least on the completed ones,” Mr. Ferris said. “You’re still seventeen, right.”

Justin ignored the little gasp from Ms. Hoffman and said, “I’ll be eighteen next Monday. Let me give you my contract lawyer’s contact information and we can make it all legal after that.”

“Do you have a new project in mind once this is wrapped up,” Ms. Hoffman asked.

Justin said, “Yes, I’m starting an advertising agency with my partner and then in the fall I’ll be attending CMU.”

“But you’re an artist,” she said.

Justin said, “I was an artist before anyone ever saw my work and I’ll always be one but there are many outlets for creativity and right now Brian needs me. Once we get the business up and running I’ll free up time to and find some new idea. But I know right where I want to be, and exactly what I want to do.”

Justin called his mom and asked if she could wait for the movers tomorrow for him at his studio. She’d at least been there before she said she had no problem being there from ten until one which was the window Mr. Ferris had left. Justin spent the rest of the evening taping index cards with the name of the painting and numbers on each completed work; and instructions to ‘don’t take this one’ on the two incomplete pieces. He put the incomplete work and his blank canvases in the breakfast room and stacked all the ones to be moved, leaving a clip board and printed instructions for his mom to see that the twenty two going into storage were picked up.

It was almost eleven when he called Brian.

“You at your studio again?” Brian asked.

Justin sighed and said, “I really don’t like sleeping without you. How did we do it all those years? How crazy were we? I could catch a red eye, be in Phoenix by morning.”

“I’ll meet you in Dallas on Friday,” Brian said. “Are you getting work done or are you there because you don’t want to be at the loft?”

“The loft isn’t home when you’re not there,” Justin said and silently cursed the whine in his voice. “Besides, neither Lindsay nor Michael knows where the studio is and I won’t hold my temper if either one of them decided to try and talk sense into me.”

“They won’t do that, not until they’ve known you long enough to feel they have some sort of emotional pull.” Brian said.

Justin asked, “Would you be angry if I changed the locks, the security codes and installed a deadbolt?”

“It’s your home Sunshine, you can paint it pink if you want,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Liar, you’d have a fucking aneurism if I painted it pink.”

“I want you to feel safe there,” Brian said, “I do draw the line at big angry dogs, or big angry dykes but anything else, call the security service and beef it up. We’ve escaped the break in so far, because someone has been more careful about setting the system and closing the fucking door.”

Justin said, “Brian that wasn’t me. How many times have I told you it was a trick? The reason it hasn’t happened is you’ve brought home way less people to case the joint.”

“I thought you were just pulling Mikey’s chain, if it really bothers you turn the place into a fucking bank vault,” Brian said.

Justin sighed, “It’s not just him walking in; he’s actually gotten better at that. He rang the buzzer the last few times. It’s…” and he trailed off and ran his hand through his hair, listening to Brian’s attentive breathing, “when he is there, he treats me like an interloper. And I get it, its March, to them we’ve only known each other three months or so and I’ve moved in and taken over your life. But to me, he’s been adjacent and involved with his own life and kids for years and left us the hell alone but now suddenly he’s there all the time and he’s rude and possessive and yeah maybe I’m the same but you’re my man. He supposedly has his own. Is it wrong that I want him and Dave to work out because the thought of seeing him every day makes me want to scream?”

“No, I get it. When we first, well; reset,” Brian said, “I forgot that he called me multiple times a day back then, or now. Do you remember when Debbie told us they talked three times a day? That’s on a slow day. I don’t know how he held down a job, between calling mommy and calling me and calling Ted and Emmett, when did he work?”

“I took a couple retail jobs when I first got to New York, it involved a lot of standing around doing nothing, that’s why the pay is crap,” Justin said.

Brian said, “And you quit.”

“It’s not my fault I hate people,” Justin said.

Brian chuckled and said, “It’s a good thing you’re so God damned talented.”

Sometimes when they lay talking like this their phones pressed to their ears in the dark it was almost like they were together. Not quite as good, not being able to reach out and run his fingertips over that warm velvety skin and feel the sleek muscles shift in slow languid movements as he rained feather soft kisses down Brian’s body and thrust against his thigh and hip. Justin sighed and said, “You’re so hot. You’re the most amazing man, so beautiful. I love you. I miss you.”

“Are you touching yourself,” Brian purred.

Justin said, “It’s not the same, I miss you Brian. What if I left earlier and checked into the hotel late, that way as soon as you got in you could come up to the room instead of waiting until after three. The flight should be less crowded-”

“You’re not touching yourself, you’re surfing the airline’s site aren’t you,” Brian said.

“I miss you,” Justin said.

Brian sighed and said, “I miss you too, make sure you call the hotel and change that reservation as well. If I can wrap my meeting I’ll try and get an earlier flight. I love you. And it is embarrassingly pathetic that we can’t make it five days apart.”

“No, it’s not,” Justin said, “It would be for other people but not for us. Other people don’t love each other as much as we do. I love you across the very fabric of time and space. What we have they can only dream of, you’re my eternity.”

“Okay, no more time spent with Emmett, I’d also ban teenage girls but I’ve been trying to keep you in school so just don’t listen to them when you’re with them. I already think I should be checking you for a vagina first thing,” Brian said.

Justin booked a flight for the next day and called the hotel himself to let them know he’d check in tomorrow. He locked up the studio and put an envelope with a spare key and the printed instructions, along with a hand drawn cartoon of him running in circles trying to do several things at once with a big ‘Thanks, Mom’ speech bubble on the outside and stuck it in his parents’ mailbox. He drove back to the loft and started frantically packing. Sent a mass text to the girls saying he had to leave early for Dallas, because of ‘reasons’ and then called for a pick up to go to the airport at an equally ungodly hour of the morning.

“I can’t believe you’re ditching three days just because you’re horny,” Daphne said by way of greeting when he answered his phone. “Does Brian know?”

Justin made a face at her, which was ineffective over the phone and said, “He knows I’m coming early but not that I’m coming tomorrow. If he gets in tomorrow night bonus and if he gets in Thursday morning I just have to suffer until then, but he still won’t have to wait for a three o’clock check in. Go ahead call me a princess, I know Brian will.”

“I understand that you really like sex, Justin, but it’s like you’re conjoined,” she said.

Justin huffed and set the alarm for a half an hour before oh God o’clock and then threw himself across the bed and said, “It is not. I go to school and he goes to work. I just can’t sleep without him Daph. It’s like part of myself is missing. Oh, my God, I couldn’t tell you this at school. You can’t let anyone know, even the girls. Or ever, in your whole life, let anyone know that I told you before the official announcement.”

“What?” She squealed and said, “Stop making it sound like espionage. I swear, super-secret best friend status, what?”

Justin said, “Mel is going to have a baby, she asked Brian to be the father.”

“Oh my God,” she said, “you’re so fucking grown up. You have kids.”

Justin said, “I don’t have kids, I just get to make brief cameo appearances as Brian’s lovely assistant in all things dad related. It’s the best way to have kids because everyone else does the icky stuff and I just get to buy them stuff and agree that parents can’t possibly understand them.”

“You will be back for your birthday right,” Daphne said.

Justin froze and then said, “swear to me you’re not planning on something embarrassing like strippers.”

“You’re gay why would I send you… oh you mean male strippers, I hadn’t thought of that,” Daphne ended with a giggle and now she obviously was thinking of it. Sometimes having a teenager for a best friend was a pain in the ass.

They didn’t stay on the line much longer because Daphne had school in the morning and Justin would be on his way to Dallas. He didn’t sleep well, over packed and probably still didn’t have clothes that Brian would approve of for the opening; and almost missed his flight regardless of leaving the loft at five thirty.

His seven AM flight got him into Dallas, at least the airport, at nine thirty and he fueled up on coffee once the landed. He wrestled his luggage and approached the transportation areas around ten. It was then that Justin realized that despite being emancipated he couldn’t rent a car because they would go by the age on his ID. Since he hadn’t thought to reserve one he had an hour’s wait for the next available limo. He checked his bags with the limo service and went to get something to eat, since as he remembered it, the Dallas airport wasn’t actually in Dallas just like Pittsburgh it was about forty minutes to an hour outside the city depending on traffic and construction.

Three breakfast sandwiches a carton of milk and another coffee later he hit the men’s room before heading back to wait for his limo. On the way he grabbed the Dallas paper to see if it had any mention of the exhibit. He’d specifically chosen a limo over a cab because it might not have happened yet but he was a New Yorker. Limos cost one price to get you from airport to hotel regardless of how long or what way the driver went. He didn’t know Dallas well enough and a cabbie could have driven him in circles and cost him hundreds of dollars, he’d rather pay the cost up front and relax and not worry about the ride.

There would be no limo sex but he had a sketch pad and his iPod. Justin requested The Fairmont near the art museum. He expected that to be the extent of the conversation but Tomas, the driver was young and local and chatted about the city and the night life. Tomas was painfully straight but recommended areas to go and areas to stay away from. Apparently there were areas of Dallas that were dangerous to walk around. He said to check with the hotel staff that some hotels recommended not leaving the hotel unless you were being driven somewhere.

It was nearly twelve thirty by the time they pulled up to the hotel and Justin let the bell boys grab his luggage and checked at the desk to see when his room would be ready. Wednesday weren’t big days for check-ins apparently and he was told he could go up to his suite right away. Justin left a message with the desk that Mr. Kinney could be arriving today or tomorrow and would be joining him and made sure they knew to send him up not to check him into a second room.

Once he was in the suite he didn’t unpack so much as he toothbrush before getting undressed and getting into bed. He planned to nap for a couple hours and call Brian around the time school would let out. It seemed as if he just shut his eyes when the next thing he knew Brian was looming over him saying, “Weren’t you coming tomorrow?”

“Weren’t you still in Phoenix?” he said back.

Brian had lost his tie and suit jacket, and his shirt was open at the collar, with the sleeves rolled up. Justin reached up and pulled at his shirt and to bring him down for a kiss. As they kissed, Justin started unbuttoning Brian’s shirt and said, “You need to be naked.”

Brian must have kicked off his shoes before he woke him because he peeled off his trousers in record time. The room had been chilly but the bed had a fluffy duvet and high end sheets that even Brian couldn’t find fault with. It felt sensuous as the bedding shifted and caressed his bare skin. Brian slid in beside him so the feel of the cool sheets had to then compete with his warm skin.

Brian kissed him until Justin was practically humping him before turning him over. Justin thrust back against Brian’s fingers as he prepped him and said, “Now, I need you now,”

Brian slapped his ass and the sound cracked out as he said, “Bossy bottom. Do not rush the prep.”

“Fuck,” Justin hissed as Brian twisted his fingers hitting just right.

Their coupling was frenetic and they were both panting for air by the time they finished. Brian pulled him close and tucked Justin’s head under his chin before saying, “So you missed me.”

Justin sighed and relaxed against him. But only for a few moments as their breathing evened out; he then said, “I’m hungry.”

“Christ,” Brian murmured, “this goes on until you were what, twenty five; twenty six?”

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast at the airport,” Justin said.

“Room service?” Brian said.

Justin’s stomach made a rude noise and he said, “Let’s just go down to the lobby and see if they’ll seat us in the restaurant. I’ll even eat at the bar, if we have to.”

They called ahead to see if a table was available. Got dressed and headed down, it was Texas so Justin wanted beef. They ordered steaks and split a bottle of cabernet sauvignon. Brian updated him on the healthcare pitch. Justin had worked on the art work for it. He’d done a simple but catchy animation and Brian had been able to run it for their marketing people from a projector hooked to his lap top. They had elected to use it and there would be six other commercials as part of the series that had been proposed. Justin was really glad his own project was almost done, and that he still had full use of his hand although he was grateful for the years of experience with working on that particular computer art program although this version didn’t have all the bells and whistles yet.

It was a bit ironic that the first time he was seventeen he’d wanted to be an animator before he got side tracked into the art world. Now he was using the art world to finance and education that might actually let him do animation, at least in advertising. Rage would never play as a live action movie, outside of porn. He’d realized that the first time he saw ‘The Avengers’ in a theater with Gus. But he thought it might have a go as an animated feature, in the spirit of ‘Heavy Metal’ or ‘Aeon Flux’.

They talked about the airline pitch for tomorrow. Brian had it all ready to go but he did like to think out loud prior to a big pitch and after scoring the first two he wanted to a make this trip a grand slam. Justin informed Brian that Ted was interviewing the art twins at the Capitol Grill on Tuesday and Brian said they should just have made an offer over the phone, rather than go through the motions. Justin thought that they needed another big gun on the sales side and that having all the sales pressure on Brian was going to blow up on them. Brian made a face and pointed out Justin was biased and would be against anything that had Brian out of his bed for more than a few hours.

Justin then confided he thought Daphne and the girls were going to do something embarrassing for his eighteenth birthday and Brian showed no sympathy and reminded Justin that Michael was his best friend and unless they threw him a party at a funeral parlor he should suck it up and deal. Justin was thankful Brian didn’t make a big thing of birthdays, but was kind of expecting a car. Brian was the only one Justin could snap ‘I’m a New Yorker’ whenever they asked how he dealt with not having one. And while Pittsburgh transit system wasn’t bad in the circle of neighborhoods Justin frequented, it was pretty difficult to transport a canvas on a bus.

“Did you bring a suit? You could sit in on my meeting tomorrow.” Brian said.

Justin looked surprised and said, “I’m seventeen. You want them to take you seriously. If you need any extra art work or want me to make a change I’m here but they don’t see what you see when you look at me. It’s frustrating but give it time.”

“You don’t look seventeen. Not when you’re in a suit. You’ve either consciously or subconsciously made yourself look older, the hair or maybe the way you carry yourself. Objectively I’d guess early twenties.” Brian said.

“I figured I’d sleep, eat, use the in-house gym and maybe go to the pool and lay around in the shade,” Justin said. “What times your meeting?”

“Not until two,” Brian said. “I was supposed to be flying in from Phoenix in the morning. But once I had the contract signed I figured I’d come in and have more time, be able to have my suit pressed and look more presentable.”

After dinner, Brian made Justin hang up his clothes; Justin had brought a suit but saw a shopping trip before the opening from the look in Brian’s eyes. They both got dressed for clubbing and had a car sent. On Tomas’ recommendation they had their driver drop them about two miles away in a cluster of dance clubs that according to Tomas changed names and management so often he hadn’t bothered to learn the newest names. They chose the one with all the hot guys lined up and based either upon the limo dropping them off or Brian’s secret power of mind control were waived to the front of the line by the doorman. It was a multi-level venue with spattering’s of leather and drag but mostly just hot guys out for a good time. The music was loud and other than being greeted by ‘Hey Y’all’ by the staff, just like being at home.

They danced and unwound, sticking mostly to water in light of Brian’s big presentation and sending for a car at around one. The next morning Justin woke to the sound of the shower and called for coffee and an egg white omelet with dry whole wheat toast. The kitchen sounded truly mournful that they had no guava juice, so Justin ordered a sliced green apple brushed with lime juice and a carafe of spring water. For himself, he ordered a Tex-Mex omelet and a milkshake to go with the coffee service.

+

Brian exited the bathroom to find his very own hot blond smiling sleepily at him. His pre-caffeinated, hot blond, who looked like he wanted to snuggle back down into the big soft bed and hibernate until after the opening. He resolved to try and go easy on teasing Justin about his impromptu trip, or emergency fuck whatever he was calling it. It had been a mistake to book the sales trip now, right before his birthday. He was aware how stressed out Justin got around certain dates and there was no more obvious date than his birthday, the day it had all started last year.

He put one knee on the bed next to Justin and leaned in to kiss him. Brian felt Justin open the thick robe that came with the room and slide his hands inside. Pushing Justin back flat on the bed Brian let his open robe fall on either side of Justin as he rubbed up against him. Justin was eager and Brian asked, “What’s the hurry?”

“I ordered room service,” Justin gasped.

Brian nipped his earlobe and said, “Of course you did.”

Before they ended up in the past, Justin had passed the age where he was finally confounded by a rule that had always applied to the rest of the world but not him; you can’t eat your weight in sugary carbs every day and not gain weight. Brian remembered how betrayed by his own body Justin had sounded when he lamented having trouble zipping his jeans after he reached thirty. The fact that Brian had been waiting for it to happen for the past ten years had somewhat dulled his sympathy. They got off quick but Justin was still at the age where he could lock and load in a matter of minutes so Brian figured they’d have another go after breakfast.

It was still before ten when the cart arrived, the young woman from guest services set up a full carafe of coffee, an cold pitcher of water, a milk shake and two covered meals, on the desk/table in the sitting room, she then added a small chilled plate of sliced apple. She very discreetly did not glance into the bedroom, where Justin looked torn between keeping his nudity covered with the duvet and pouncing on his breakfast. Brian thanked her and gave her a twenty as she left.

By the time he turned from closing the door, Justin was pulling up a chair he had tossed a bed pillow on to protect his dangling bits. Brian poured himself some coffee and hid a smile in the cup. Things were going to be alright. Justin’s birthday would come and go and life or afterlife if this was it would go on. It had to because there was absolutely nothing they could do to the contrary. He’d spent enough of his first lifetime brooding over shit he couldn’t control he wasn’t going to let Justin explode worrying about something that might never happen.

Because he wasn’t the same scared asshole who had had to nearly have Justin bleed out and himself almost die of cancer and then have his whole fucking world explode before he could admit to himself that showing your weakness, admitting vulnerability, at least to the people you loved, even if that love was what made you vulnerable wasn’t the worst thing in the world that could happen, Brian said, “I’m glad you’re here.” Meeting naked vulnerability in Justin’s blue eyes he added, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have scheduled this trip now. It was the worst possible time to be in separate cities.”

Justin shrugged, as always willing to give Brian an out, not in an enabling way but in a way that said; Justin got it. It said he’d always got it, even when Brian was so sure his walls were high and nigh impregnable. He’d been doing some brooding himself about Mel and the new baby. Gus hadn’t seemed real the first time until that incomprehensible bundle of personhood had been breathing and crying and alive in his hands. Now though, there was this person in the back of his mind that seemed to be already here. How would this change everything, or more importantly since Gus was everything, how would it change Gus? Gus had been an attentive big brother to JR, probably because he had two moms who wouldn’t let him sell his little sister, even for chocolate. But now he was so young, would he remember a time when he was the only baby? Would he and the new brother or sister be closer or fight more? Would it make Gus a different person? Gus had been one of the most genuinely kind people Brian had ever met. The please and thank you had to be drilled in by his moms but the soft heart and real concern he showed for not just cute animals on TV but for old people having trouble walking in the park and the smelly homeless guy sleeping on the bench or a crying kid in the grocery store. From a very young age Gus’ first instinct was to help others. Would having another kid in that mix change that?

“What are you brooding about? Not your presentation, you’re going to nail it,” Justin said. Most of his omelet and milkshake was gone.

Brian realized he’d been nibbling on apple slices and had hardly touched his own. He said, “I’ve been thinking about the new baby. How it will change things for Gus. Do you think it will make him happier or not?”

“Gus was one of the happiest kids I ever met and he loved everyone who came into his life, you’re just giving him a larger family, more people to love,” Justin said.

“It’s only more if Jenny Rebecca is born, if not it’s a trade of some sort,” Brian said.

Justin said, “You can’t control that, Mel was ready now, if you said no; she might not have asked Michael, it could have been Emmett.”

“Emmett?” Brian laughed and started on his omelet.

Justin just smiled and said, “He’s tall and you know Mel always has to be the top.”

They both headed to the rooftop pool for an hour or so before going back to the room for shower sex as Brian dressed for his meeting and Justin arranged to have his and Brian’s other suit pressed. The Fairmont was not only two blocks from Dallas Museum of Art but it was two miles to the West Village a shopping district even Justin had heard of down by the club district they’d been to the night before and Brian suggested buy something more trendy than a suit for the opening or accessories to dress down the suit Justin brought.

“Planning to go back up to the pool?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “No, not until evening the sun is too dangerous. I’ll probably draw or maybe hit the tour the Natural History museum or both.”

“I’m going to offer to take them to dinner. I have reservations at ‘Voltaire’; I want you to join us. It might end up just being you and me but I don’t think they’ll turn it down its supposed to be pretty good,” Brian said. “It’s only about fifteen minutes up the Tollway from here. I’ll text you with exact numbers but if you could get there early and do that moneyed WASP thing you do and keep the sommelier from trying to sell me over priced vinegar; review the menu options so he doesn’t try and push a six hundred dollar a bottle of wine on a tableful of good ol’ boys.”

Justin grinned and said, “One bitchy little WASP princess coming up. Go seduce them with your wily business skills.”

Since he knew the airline industry was in for a big change in the coming year, Brian was pitching a slow start, seeding the market. His campaign was equating the small startup airline; that specialized in small charter runs, with safety and convenience. Sure now it was going to have a rough time competing with the big boys but once all the other airlines had to overhaul their security it should own the Southwest market for flying executives and doing an end run around all the commercial flight hassles.

If he could talk them into not blowing their whole marketing budget on a media blitz he thought they would be a good investment. Nothing said you believed in a product like being willing to take all or part of your fee in ownership shares. And that was why he was taking them to the most expensive restaurant he could find.

+

“Thanks again Mom,” Justin said. He checked his watch. He’d taken the call without checking the number thinking it was Brian. He really needed to finish getting dressed and head out to the restaurant. “You’re a lifesaver. Next week is going to be swamped and I really didn’t want to have the whole collection sitting out there waiting to be stolen. Did you get a chance to look at any of them before the movers came?”

His mother had made distressed noises about him being in Dallas early, but he told her they were combining the opening with business and had to meet a client. That had led him to having to share that Brian was starting his own agency and now she seemed worried he was going to be supporting Brian. He really wished she would just learn to love Brian; it had made everyone’s lives easier.

Once he got off the phone, Justin was glad he’d tossed a couple ties into his luggage. He paired a vivid blue dress shirt with a matching tie and tied an Eldredge knot; because if nothing else, all those years in a school uniform granted him vast skills with a tie. His suit was light gray and of course thanks to Brian, Armani. A car was waiting and he made the trip up the toll way, it was four thirty and rush hour traffic was just starting up. So it was just after five when the car dropped him at the porte-cochere and he went into the restaurant. The first thing he noticed amide all the marble and gleaming wood was a huge chandelier, an explosion of broken crockery with lights shining from the shattered plates, tea pots and cups. There was a fireplace of polished marble and the walls were covered with gold-framed artwork, so much artwork that large stainless steel screens hung more, while being used to give the open area a more intimate feel. The balance of light and color was very well done and Justin was beginning to think despite his originally scoffing at the idea of French-Asian fusion that maybe the restaurant’s reputation wasn’t all hype.

Justin wandered into the bar which was the only part of the immense venue open yet and took a seat at the bar. He asked for an ice water with lime and the wine list. Justin originally thought that the menu he glanced over was the bar menu as it seemed much abbreviated but apparently only a few select entrees were served. The wine list was extensive and he poured over it, not knowing what their guest would order but wanting to have several ideas on what to order so that the bill didn’t sky rocket and in case the staff turned out to be overly pretentious.

It was a comfortable looking place, staged to be impressive but the food at least didn’t seem to be priced any higher than the restaurant at the hotel where they’d dined the night before. He received a text from Brian letting him know they would have four of their new clients dining with them. Justin waited until the bartender was on the other side of the bar serving someone and called the restaurant. He watched a young woman cross to the front desk to answer the phone.

“This is Justin Taylor, from Kinnetik ; Mr. Kinney has a six o’clock reservation for eight people, I’m calling to let you know he’ll be a party of six. They would like to start off with two bottles of your 1998 Rudd Estates Chardonnay while they peruse your menu.”

She confirmed and he watched her make a notation.

“That will be fine, thank you,” he ended the call and wished he’d brought his sketch pad because that chandelier was a work of art in itself, more a sculpture than a light fixture. He really could not wait for camera phones to become common place. Or given how much he liked public sex maybe not, he remembered some idiot taking shots of the backroom of Babylon causing Brian to considering having people not bring their phones in the club, until he realized most fags would have to have the damn things surgically removed.

“Did you just use your phone to call across the room?” asked a man with a draft two seats down.

Justin blinked and looked over at the large, very large man and then looked around to make sure he was talking to him. Apparently he was and Justin said, “Yes. I did.” The man wasn’t fat; he was tall and built, well like Ben or like Drew. Maybe having your brains bashed in by one high school football player gave you a sixth sense so Justin asked, “Are you a Dallas Cowboy?”

“Yeah, Troy,” and the man held out a hand to shake.

Justin smiled, not full out more of a please don’t hit me grin, and shook his hand while saying “Justin. If I knew more about sports I’d be really impressed, but I’m an artist.”

“That’s okay; I don’t know much about art. Why didn’t you just walk over and talk to her?” Troy said.

Justin thought and said, “Well if I’m in front of her, she has to make me at home, take care of me like a guest. If I call, she can give all her attention to my instructions for Mr. Kinney’s party.”

“He’s your boss,” Troy said.

Justin shook his head and said, “He’s my partner. But on our team, he’s the quarterback. He calls the plays and he makes things happen. Today, I’m defense; I clear the obstacles and make sure everything is set up for him to score. Since that was about the limit of my ability to use sports metaphors, I hope it was right.”

Troy laughed and they chatted some more. Troy asked about his business and Justin after explaining what Kinnetik did, mentioned he was also in town for the opening at the art museum. He asked if Troy did endorsements or had interest in doing them and Troy gave him a card for his agent. Troy was waiting for someone and when she showed, Justin excused himself after inviting them to the opening. As the restaurant was starting the first seating, he went over the desk and introduced himself as being with the Kinney party and that the rest of them would be here shortly. He was shown to the table which despite the large size of the restaurant had an intimate feel.

Brian must have ridden with some of their new clients because they were only fifteen minutes late. Given how the restaurant was filling up Justin figured they would have lost the table if he wasn’t there. Brian brought three men and a woman from Grissom Air. The woman was some sort of techie named Mary who specialized in design and customizing jets. There was the standard accountant, named Billy and Trevor in charge of PR and sales, and the CEO and chief investor named Nick. Brian introduced Justin and they were all seated while the wine was poured and menus distributed.

Justin was glad he ordered a light white to start with because two of them ordered salmon like Brian and the other two ordered a black cod and Justin was the only one to go for meat and ordered the duck breast. Brian and he sat at either end of a long rectangular table with their guest filling in the sides. Once they placed their orders the sommelier stopped and as the wine was nearly finished recommended based on their orders a 1995 Taittinger Chardonnay, Brian looked at Justin and Justin said, “You have a ’95 Leeuwin Estate Chardonnay, let’s start with that.”

The food was excellent if not plentiful and the company not as boring as he expected. Billy had a dry sense of humor that reminded Justin of Ted and Trevor talked so much no one had to make any effort to keep the conversation going. The restaurant staff was attentive and everybody in their party was demurring on deserts with their after dinner coffee until Justin ordered one and then everyone but Brian tried one.

Troy and his date stopped on their way out to get the name of the exhibit. Justin said he would arrange to have two passes waiting at the door if they could make it Saturday night but if not it would be there for weeks. After they left everyone including Brian looked at him.

“Do you know who that was?” Mary asked.

Justin said, “Troy and Rhonda, Troy plays football for Dallas.”

“How did you meet Troy, Sunshine?” Brian asked with a smirk.

Justin sipped his wine primly and said, “He just started talking to me in the bar, you know how it is.”

“Justin’s superpower,” Brian said to the table at large, “is that random people just start talking to him all the time.”

“Brian’s is mind control, isn’t it handy he’s using it for advertising?” Justin said.

Mary asked what exhibit they were talking about and Justin mentioned they had planned to be in town for the opening at the art museum on Saturday. He offered to have passes set aside if any of them liked art. Only Mary took him up on it and he asked if two passes were enough she assured him they were. Nick had seen it with his wife while in Phoenix which was how Brian had met him and told Mary she would love it.

Brian had to go in to their offices to finalize a few things first thing in the morning but then planned to drag Justin out shopping. After the others left, they had a car called and finished their wine in the bar while they waited for their ride.

Later when the car picked them up and took them back to the hotel Brian asked, “What was the difference between the wine they recommended and the one you ordered?”

“Other than about one hundred and seventy five dollars a bottle? He recommended a French wine and I picked an Australian. Both are full bodied, robust Chardonnay’s. Taittinger is an older more established winery, and it’s French.” Justin said. They were in a town car instead of the limo so the half hour ride would have to remain chaste.

The next morning Justin slept through Brian’s shower, his getting dressed and leaving, in fact he didn’t budge until Brian was crawling back into bed naked and waking him up in the absolute best way possible. Afterwards it was a shower and before Justin could protest or demand breakfast he was bundled into a car and being pushed out in the West Village. They had breakfast burritos in a kitschy little mom and pop place and wandered the stores.

Justin knew he was pouting but he would much rather be naked back at the hotel room with Brian than following him around when he was in ‘hunt, kill, shop’ mode. He stopped pouting when he stumbled on a display of locally made jeweler mostly silver with lots of turquoise, agate and red coral. Neither Brian or he were the type to wear huge belt buckles but the artist had moved away from the traditional Native America designs and many of the pieces had a Frank Lloyd Wright feel to them or a prairie or arts and crafts style. Many used the repeating angled rectangles so popular in stained glass to set simple patterns in the pieces. Brian bought himself a bracelet and a bolo in that pattern for Justin. Justin pointed out he was unlikely to wear a bolo in Pittsburgh. Brian thought wearing some local jewelry to the opening would be good for Justin’s image and could help support the artist who had designed the line. They got details about the line when they purchased it along with a store catalog. Brian left a card with the sales person and requested it be passed on to the artist if they were interested in advertising or breaking into new markets.

“This would go great with the shirt I wore last night,” Justin said. “To bad it’s dirty.”

“I sent it with both of our suits this morning to be laundered and pressed,” Brian said, “I wasn’t going to risk you having another allergic reaction to new clothes. But stuff that doesn’t touch your skin like a vest to match the red in the coral will be okay, let’s go in here.”

Justin resigned himself, Brian obviously had an image of what he wanted him to look like for the opening. He was wondering if he should suggest a haircut between now and then, although Dallas wasn’t as fashion forward as New York he felt he was getting pretty scruffy looking. Brian was sporting a more flattering cut these days. He was less likely to be swayed by the queen who styled his hair to follow some trend given he knew where men’s fashions were heading next season and over the next years; although Brian had never gone too radical with his hair.

“What are you going to wear,” Justin said.

Brian smirked and said, “Suit and tie, the usual. I’m not the star of the show.”

“Red on red and your gun metal gray suit,” Justin said. “You have that with you right? You look hot in red. It’s a good color for you; dark reds, nothing too juvenile.”

Brian stopped sorting through the racks of formal wear and said, “I wish you would put half that effort into your own wardrobe. Why you insist on looking like you just got fired from ‘The Gap’ is beyond me.”

“You’re such a label queen,” Justin said. “The gap sells comfortable cotton clothing, which I like.”

“Poor fitting, badly made, cotton clothing,” Brian said, “I wear jeans, and tee shirts and I have no problem with you dressing for comfort. Just remember your body is also a work of art, and frame it accordingly. Find good looking comfortable clothing. Here try this on.”

Brian thrust a vest at him. The front was a thin boiled silk in a coral color that matched the bolo perfectly and the back was a shade of gray that probably, given Brian’s eye for color, matched his suit. It was a little large but the store had fitters who pinned it and would have it delivered to the hotel later that day.

They stopped at a kid’s store that specialized in educational toys and ordered too many and had them shipped to Pittsburgh. They strolled hand-in-hand around a gallery featuring a local photographer. Her work was mostly landscapes of the desert and typical touristy snakes, skulls and tumble weed, but there was a series of six photos all shot at night. The outlines of buttes, mountains and the lines of the desert horizon were all just an inch or two of black, the bulk of the shots were clear night skies out away from all the light pollution of the cities the galaxies were spread out like glittering smoke. Brain kept coming back to them.

“Buy them,” Justin said.

Brian looked thoughtful and said, “We don’t have space in the loft, but I guess I could hang them at Kinnetik when it’s finished. I mean I no longer have a drain in my office floor I should have something to make it unique.”

They talked to the gallery owner; Brian of course got a better price because he bought all six. They stopped for Mexican before calling the car to head back to the hotel. They napped from about six to nine up by the pool and went in to change for another night of clubbing but not too late since Saturday at nine Justin had an interview and a photoshoot at the museum.

He wore black jeans, ankle boots and a grey silk tank under a crisp white dress shirt to the shoot. The only jewelry he wore was Brian’s new bracelet. He really expected a wooden pose standing by the large portrait of Stella. Whoever was shooting for the Arts and Entertainment section of the Dallas paper was apparently a budding artist himself because the guy brought enough lights and various colored gel sheets to start a studio. He set up the shot with dramatic shadows cast by the museums architectural features and if it hadn’t been 2001 Justin would have felt compelled to snap that his name was Taylor not Bieber. The shot didn’t even have any of his artwork in it and he was being posed like a member of a boy band.

All the time Justin was being manhandled and posed and having light meters stuck in his face the interviewer was rattling off questions; which she could have found the answer to if she’d researched any of the previous interviews at the previous shows. Justin started to wonder if there was even film in the camera or if this was all some clever distraction to throw him off his game. Brian had gone off to make sure admissions had a list of guest they were comping tickets to, Mary, Troy and now the gallery owner where Brian had purchased photos.

For all his internal bitching Justin hadn’t realized how much time had passed until Brian asked the interviewer, “will you be wrapping up soon, Mr. Taylor has another appointment we must get to.”

The other appointment was for lunch, a fuck and a nap but she didn’t need to know that. Brian was seven kinds of awesome in that on the ride back the car stopped and a barbequed chicken pizza and six pack of cold beer was handed to them at the curbside. Beer and pizza went back to the room with them and they both got naked and ate in bed. After they fucked and both napped, Brian got up early and hit the gym before waking Justin for shower sex and then they both got ready.

Justin debated wearing his suit jacket and bowed to Brian’s greater fashion expertize and left it off. He ended up with light gray trousers, black ankle boots; the long sleeve vivid blue, freshly laundered and pressed oxford shirt, under his new vest and accented by the bolo – dressish artsy if he had to give it a name. Brian looked impeccable and ready to take on the world, gun metal gray Armani suit, over a brick red shirt and matching tie and pocket swatch, Rolex on one wrist and his new bracelet on the other. Tying up his Gucci black leather lace ups and he looked the part of a corporate raider; a fashionable corporate raider.

Justin was sad to see the opening start. They were flying back the next day and he could easily have hung out exploring the city with Brian. Lindsay had only called Brian once to let him know how Gus was doing and that she and Mel had no problem with the insemination at the clinic. It would be weeks probably before they knew if it took.

He’d gotten a text from Daphne updating him on Hunter’s case. His mom had been arraigned and ended up pleading guilty so she was sentenced; she’d only received five years for prostituting her son and ten for the amount of drugs they found on her when they arrested her. Daphne said she’d talked to Mason and he thought that with the right counsel and the court transcripts showing she displayed remorse and asked for help at her arraignment that she might be out on parole in three to five years if she had the right case worker. So Hunter may still have to face a mother who tried to get custody back before he was eighteen. Justin remembered Emmett describing HD’s ‘widow option’, which Brian had thought was a great idea if someone was hitting your kids. In Hunter’s case he wondered if getting her arrested was really the wise thing to do, as opposed to dropping a safe off a building on her or something equally cartoony. The kid was starting to grow on him, and given the girls adored him not likely to leave his life even if he didn’t stay with Deb and Vic. He was tempted to call and ask how he was but knowing Hunter he’d just growl, ‘how the fuck do you think I am?’ which he would give him was pretty easy to imagine.

Daphne was still harping about sending Hunter to St. James. Why Justin didn’t know St. James was a hell hole. Of course it was the only hell hole Justin knew and maybe public school was worse. It had something to do with Daphne getting to go to John Hopkins. They really needed to set up a board for the non-profit. Because debating the merit of giving their current charge the most expensive education available in Pittsburgh or taking in a second charge really should be done by bunch of teens sit around a table in their high school caf.

When they arrived at the museum, early as requested instead of another interview there was another photo shoot. This one at least had him positioned in front of one of his pictures. It was the large dressing room shot and Justin was stunned when the curator told him it was for an article being written for ‘Time’ magazine. Lindsay hadn’t mentioned that and he, to the best of his knowledge, hadn’t spoken to anyone regarding it. He was assured that these things often took months and that the wires must just have gotten crossed. If the article was on Stella or the historical significance of the subject matter surely, Justin thought, they would have contacted Bertie and he would have mentioned it. He went through most of the receiving line with only half his attention wondering how he could not have known about this.

Later he caught up with Brian chatting with Mary and another woman, who he, even with his so called faulty gaydar, could tell was her date. After a suitable amount of small talk he stole Brian away to the back break area and told him about the supposed ‘Time’ article.

“You’re moving up in the world,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Why am I just hearing about it after the photo shoot, and doesn’t this all feel a little …”

“A little what?” Brian said.

Justin sighted, “Contrived. Sinister. Too good to be true,” Justin said. “I’m not even eighteen yet. If I had had this kind of success, this fast once I moved to New York, I’d have been back within a year and we wouldn’t have spent all that time apart. Now it all just falls into my lap. My goal with this whole exhibit was to not have to be a bus boy when Dad chucked me out of the house. And now it’s dragging me all over the country, which I enjoy when you’re here but I don’t know; it feels off. Why is this happening? Why now? And what’s it blinding me too that I’ll regret not noticing after the fact?”

Brian handed him a bottle of water and put an arm around him and said, “Deep breath. You were always talented. Even after your brain injury. But your hand stopped you from getting fully in the zone; from losing track of time and working from eight to ten hours straight. You couldn’t have produced forty paintings in a couple months. Not of this size and quality. It’s like weights have been removed from your ankles and you’re wondering why you run faster. And yeah, you’ve had some lucky breaks and a lot of help, but you got that help because you exuded the confidence and vision of someone much older than you physically are. People see that and they want to know why you’re so sure of yourself. It’s not arrogance, your just comfortable in your skin, you know your own mind and you don’t settle or vacillate you see what you want and you get it. Come Tuesday this will all look much less sinister.”

“I just would have liked a heads up before being shot by ‘Time’ for Christ sake,” Justin mumbled into Brian’s shoulder.

Brian rubbed circles on his back and mused, “Yeah, I don’t know maybe they contacted the History Centre instead of Lindsay.”

“I saw Ferris and Hoffmann, to talk about the next exhibit, the night before I left town,” Justin said. “She at least would have mentioned it if she knew about it.”

“Well, think about it later, we finish up here, go back to the hotel, and get a few more hours sun in the morning before flying home,” Brian said.

Justin smiled and said, “I’m being a bitchy little princess aren’t I?”

“You hate these things, you hated the smaller versions in the galleries for years and now every one seems to be a bigger circus. We can skip Atlanta if you want. You’re in the middle of starting both a new business and a new collection either on its own is a good excuse,” Brian said.

“I thought you wanted to go to Hotlanta?” Justin said.

Brian said, “We can go anywhere you want without an opening to put up with. Atlanta will be there next winter when you’re bitching about the snow.” And then took his mind of it by kissing him long and slow.

They went out to mingle and press the flesh. Troy and Rebecca stopped to talk and say nice things, Justin introduced them to Brian, Rebecca was apparently a publicist and they chatted about the industry. Troy in turn introduced them to the owner of the restaurant they ate at the night before so Justin could gush about the lighting. Justin decided he liked Texas over California for a winter destination and Brian suggested they add some of the Texas Gulf Coast to their list of future destinations.

They had drinks after the opening with Mary and her date Debbie. Debbie taught preschool and was surprised to hear Brian was a dad. Apparently she and Mary were planning to have a kid but not for another couple years. Justin frankly didn’t like the way she was eyeing Brian when she mentioned that. Since Mary was a client he refrained from freezing her out with his icy WASP superpower but Brian must have picked up on something because he was smirking mercilessly.

Their flight was at two on Sunday and they would be back in the ‘Burgh by five. So they made the most of the morning and after sex ended up lounging up at the pool until check out time. They both dug out their winter coats to carry on the plane, knowing they would need them when they got off of it. There hadn’t been a day under seventy while they were there. Pittsburgh was averaging in the forties with ice still having to be scraped in the mornings, but they were finally heading home.

 


	58. Maybe play you a sound.

With flying in, unpacking and calling Daph to see if there was anything he missed at school, besides a Calc test, Sunday night consisted of ordering out and dumping out all the stuff he should not have left in the fridge. Brian was on his own phone catching up with Lindsay and Michael. The service had finished updating the alarm system while they were away and a small monitor screen was added near the door above the alarm controls, near where they buzzed people in. It flipped through four camera angles, one from each side of the loft’s door the left side caught the elevator and top of the stairwell and one above the outside of the exterior door downstairs and one from the interior downstairs corridor by the elevator. The deadbolt was built low near the bottom of the sliding door into the wall and could be set with your foot.

Brian was sitting at his desk reading the emailed details of the system while he talked on the phone. As Justin talked to Daphne, he lay on the bed sketching Brian through the open louvers. He was pretty sure she had some plan that involved cupcakes and public embarrassment playing out tomorrow at lunch for his eighteenth. He’d never been so thankful that Brain could be relied on not to do something ridiculous for his birthday. As they got older they had tried to be together for birthdays and when the family didn’t get involved it usually was a nice quiet dinner at a restaurant. Of course after Dallas he was looking forward to a nice quiet evening in so hopefully the girls got it all out of their systems at school.

Ted had touched base with Brian on Friday and they were meeting with Judith Altman at ten the next day to look at a property which Ted thought met Brian’s requirements for short term office space. So once Brian wrapped up his calls Justin told Daphne he’d see her tomorrow and they got ready for bed.

Justin had to stop at the school admin office and deal with them not being happy he’d called off three days the previous week so instead of catching up with the girls before class he was sitting and waiting for Mr. Hunt. And once Hunt arrived he had to listen to a lecture about attendance and the fact that just because he was emancipated did not mean he could come and go as he pleased. Mr. Hunt wrapped it up by saying he wanted a note from Justin’s doctor.

“I wasn’t sick. I told Mrs. Hodder when I called off, I had to meet clients in Dallas and I had an opening to attend,” Justin said. Given the number of his classmates who routinely went on vacation with their families during the school year he was feeling this was targeted yet again.

“You can’t just decide to do that, Justin,” Mr. Hunt said.

Justin sighed, “I’m confused. You’re okay if other students go skiing with his parents. But when I have to do an interview or meet with my agent you want to punish me in some way. Mr. Hunt I have a job. I try to take care if it outside of school hours but occasionally I have to travel. My grades may suffer but I’ve already been accepted at CMU. They are aware of my commitments and have assured me I can continue to pursue my art while attending. My tuition is paid until the end of the year and I intend to complete my education here. If this is some statement you feel needs to be made regarding my sexuality-”

“This has nothing to do with you being,” and Mr. Hunt stopped; probably because he almost said something that would result in a roomful of parents at the next board meeting.

Justin asked, “Is it because I’ve pointed out what a toxic environment the staff’s tolerance of violent verbal and physical harassment of select members of the student body creates for everyone? Because getting rid of me won’t make that go away. I’m not the only one who has noticed it or is concerned about it. As of today I’m eighteen and a voter; I now have a concern with the impact this school makes on the community at large.”

“Happy birthday, Taylor; I’m not targeting you or any other student. You just can’t come and go as you please. If you want to go to this school you have to come to school,” Mr. Hunt said.

Justin said, “I’ll come. But be aware, when I turn down an interview or an appearance, especially if it’s one that my agent has already committed me to, I’m going to have to tell them why and that may have various sources contacting you to verify that you’ve forbidden me to attend.”

“You really have an agent?” He said, apparently after the angry dyke lawyer he was willing to believe somewhat.

“Ms. Peterson, if you need to contact her I can get you her number. I also have a contract lawyer and a tax guy, because although you don’t follow the art scene I have an exhibit of forty paintings traveling the country, it’s been in four cities since it debuted in Pittsburgh in August. I skipped Chicago because of school and my reputation with the museum curators took a beating; as a result San Francisco had a blitz screen of interviews. I really had to be in Dallas. I interviewed with the ‘Dallas Morning News’ you may be able to check it online and there was a photo shoot with ‘Time’ but that’s not coming out for a while. I also had a meeting with ‘Grissom Air’ regarding an ad campaign I’ll be involved with since I’m currently doing some animation and graphic art for Kinnetik, a new advertising company. I just feel that if my mother had called and said I would be out for the rest of the week you wouldn’t be pulling me in and interrogating me. A judge declared me competent to act as an adult before I turned eighteen. That means I pay my own bills and taxes, can sign for medical procedures, buy property and be held accountable if I break the law. I don’t feel that I should inconvenience my mother, who I don’t live with, by making her act as my mouth piece, but I do have an attorney on retainer. I believed you’ve spoken with Ms. Marcus. Perhaps if I find it unavoidable to miss school I should ask her to call you?” Justin asked.

Now Hunt was sighing and he said, “Just try not to miss any more school. There are state mandated attendance requirements, if you don’t meet them my hands are tied,” Hunt said.

The bell rang as he was leaving the administration offices and September appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Justin and dragged him into an alcove out of the rush of students. “What did he want?” she asked.

“To prove how manly he is and tell me I can’t just cut when I feel like it. I told him I called off and my business trip is similar to all the trips to Disney World and ski vacations everyone else takes,” Justin said. “He said if I don’t meet the minimum state requirements for attendance I won’t graduate. Can you print out my attendance record, the dates I took off, was tardy and took early dismissals?”

“Piece of cake and we’ll get Mrs. Orr to give us a pass to the library and check the state website,” Sep said and then she let him go so they could both go to class.

Lunch involved rainbow cupcakes and singing. Justin had been expecting something and given that he was half worried a stripper would show he felt he got off cheaply. The state web site said nine hundred and ninety nine hours was the mandatory term, it also said you had to miss ten consecutive unexcused days to be removed from the rolls but Daphne was going to go over the school charter. She should have the damn thing memorized by now.

He was greeted by Mr. Dixon in AP Calc asking where he had been for homeroom that morning.

“Mr. Hunt had me in his office,” Justin said.

Dixon said, “You won’t be able to make up any assignments or tests that occurred for unexcused absences.”

“My absences were excused, I called them in myself. And should we be airing this in class?” Justin asked.

Dixon said, “Go to the office now, Taylor.”

Justin hadn’t even taken his seat and headed back down to Mr. Hunt’s office. He wasn’t there so Justin chatted with Mrs. Hodder. Asked about the standard procedure for notifying teachers if Mr. Hunt requested a student for a conference and if this was normally how it was handled. Hunt came in on the tail end of their discussion. Whether he smelled a law suit or was just very unhappy to have to deal with a bitchy princess twice in one day he seemed pretty unhappy that Dixon had sent Justin to him.

Based upon what he and Mrs. Hodder had been talking about Justin asked why his homeroom and AP Calc teacher hadn’t been informed both that his absences for three days last week were excused and that the school had been notified or that he was in attendance today but had been pulled into the office before roll call in homeroom. Justin then reviewed the dates of each of his absence and pointed out that due to certain matters like the unwarranted suspension Mr. Dixon requested some of his absences had been due to seeking legal advice on his right to an education. Hunt and he wrapped up another pointed conversation filled with veiled and not so veiled threats just in time for Justin to go to his last class of the day, happy fucking birthday indeed.

Daphne offered to drive him home for his birthday but Brian picked him up and took him to see their newly rented building. It was a warehouse in the South Side that had been converted to office space. The lighting was undesirable but it had space and they should only need to use it a couple months although they had signed a six month lease. Another company had been looking at it and wanted it but not until January 2002. Brian mainly picked it because it had a parking lot, space to spread out and was less than ten minutes from the loft, outside of rush hour traffic.

Justin also pointed out how many food places were in walking distance being only blocks from Carson Street where all the bars and restaurants were. They wandered around the building and then went back to the loft and changed for dinner. Brian said there was a new Tapis place that had just opened and he wanted to try it and see what the atmosphere was like. It would be close to their temporary offices and he thought it would be convenience if it was nice enough to take clients to.

When Brian was pulling up outside Emmett and HD’s place Justin said, “What’s up?

“I need to see HD and I thought I do it before they went out for the evening,” Brian said.

Justin said, “I’ll just call and he’ll come down and meet us.”

“I have to drop off some paperwork; it won’t take long, maybe Emmett will have something you can munch on so you don’t die of starvation before we get to the restaurant,” Brian said, and grabbed a manila envelope out of the pocket in his driver’s side door.

They took the stairs, even though HD and Emmett were on the fifth floor but when they got to the third floor, the one that had the large loft the door to it and the small one Shelley would be renting were open. There was music playing and Emmett greeted them with a big smile and a “Happy Birthday!”

“You didn’t,” Justin hissed at Brian. “What happened to ‘celebrating accomplishments’ you ass.”

“Now, now, Sunshine, be on your best behavior, you have guests,” Brian said putting a hand on each shoulder and pushing from behind he propelled him into the big loft.

Daphne was there, no wonder Brian had delayed them showing him the new building, obviously that sham at lunch was to lull him into a false sense of security. All the girls were there, and Paul, Mike and Niles and what the hell, Devon and several other friendish type people from school or friends of friends – pretty much looking like tourists in the homosexual zoo. Of course Michael and Dave, Ted and a couple of his porn boys, Lindsay, Mel, Deb, Vic, Hunter, Kal, Kiki, even Godiva looking glamourous in a wheelchair. Speaking of wheelchairs, Bertie was there with his grandmother, and his parents were there, his dad was eyeing Kiki like she was contagious and he better be nice or HD would throw him; there were several of the girls from Redstone in their red hats, Brian must have arranged a bus. Wade and a couple guys from the reno crew and HD along with what looked like a band setting up in the corner and a DJ at a table on the other side of the dance floor. Obviously Emmett had made some of the arrangements as the lighted dance floor was similar to but four times the size of the one he’d set up at David’s but then this unfurnished loft had much more open space. It did have folding chairs and tables with refreshments and a bar set up, despite legal drinking age in Pennsylvania being twenty one. Thankfully whoever made up the guest list hadn’t mined his and Brian’s takeout list for names.

Also in attendance were Mr. Ferris and who Justin assumed was his wife and Ms. Hoffman who seemed to be trying to cruise Ted. Chris and Tracey also attended as well as Margret and Mason and Justin wondered if the tax guy was going to show, Shelley was there and must be planning to stay in town with a friend to be here for a late night party. If Daphne got a stripper with his parents there he would murder her. Justin said, “Thank you all for coming. I hope I can count on your help in getting rid of the bodies.”

Justin spent the next hour trying to say something nice to each of the guests even though what he wanted to do was kick Brian in the shins. He hugged his grandmother and his mother; his parents seemed to be sticking close to the Redstone Highlands crew as the only confirmed straight people there. Justin, after thanking her again for coming, said to Mel, “I had planned to try and save Brian from whatever cracked up plans for his thirtieth Michael came up with but now forget the funeral parlor, we’re having it a crematorium.”

“In defense of the asshole, he was out of town all week. His assignment was to get you here. Almost all of this is those crazy girlfriends of yours. Emmett said that September just strong armed HD to let them use this place and started calling everyone to get lists of who to invite. They had Hunter putting the screws to Michael and Tracy stopped by our law offices to invite Mason and me, and Daphne cornered Ted for a list of your business contacts,” Mel said.

Justin shook his head and said, “I swear Daphne has some long term plan to kill my dad. If she hired strippers, tonight will be the night she succeeds.”

The Redstone crowd ended up over in Shelley’s new place where swing music and singers like Tony Bennett and Frank Sinatra were playing. Shelley originally took them over to show them it while telling them she would be moving in on the first. It had some folding chairs and tables set up with punch and finger foods as a quieter area since the other loft had the band alternating with the DJ and dancing and lights strobing. That’s where his parent ended up and Justin stopped by to spend some time with them. Bertie gave him a small box that Justin was guessing held a watch by the size of it. But he said it was from Stella. Brian came close and put an arm around his shoulder as he opened it with trembling fingers and tried not to tear up because his dad was watching.

It was keys. There were more than one and they didn’t look like car keys. Justin must have looked dumbfounded because Bertie said, “It’s the house, boychick. She wanted you to have the house but we held it in the trust until you turned eighteen.”

“But the grandkids,” Justin said.

Bertie made a noise in the back of his throat that Justin had learnt meant disgust and said, “It was never theirs and it hasn’t been mine since the year I married her. I didn’t want them kicking her out if something happened to me. She wanted to title it back to me when she first got the cancer in the early nineties but I knew she’d beat it and she did. This second time, we both wanted it to go to you.”

“I’ll take care of it, and if I ever stop using it as a studio, I’ll set it up as the Stella Kaufmann Artist Haven. I’ll see it always offers shelter to someone while they create,” Justin said.

Bertie smiled and said, “And that’s why she wanted you to have it. She said you loved it on sight, you didn’t start talking about ripping things out or updating it you just loved it.”

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, thank both of you. I do love it. I always will,” Justin said and hugged Bertie.

Fortunately someone, probably Emmett because he had the most common sense had sorted the gifts and the grown up ones were kept in the smaller loft and the gag gifts were over in the loud party loft. So his father and mother missed the basket Brian’s friends had given him that had a flogger, a blindfold, a ball gag, and some sort of harness for his cock and balls. Debbie thought it was hysterical or maybe just the look on his face when he opened it and then checked quickly to make sure his parents weren’t in the room. And there was a stripper dressed as a cop who came by to say he’d had complains about the noise. Not very believable since only Em and HD lived in the building so far; but that one his dad did see. It was almost as funny as the look on the stripper’s face when he realized he was there for the birthday boy and not the birthday girl. It turns out straight girls don’t know how to hire strippers for gay boys. Tracey and Tracy who had been introduced had to hold each other up they were laughing so hard.

Over in the more sedate loft his parents had got him a set of very expensive brushes and there was a gift from Molly as well, it was a new copy of ‘Yellow Submarine’ on DVD. The bus for Redstone left at eleven and his parents eyed the party going on in the other loft as they were saying goodbye. His mother reminded him that tomorrow was a school day.

He was on the dance floor with Daphne thanking/threatening her for the party, which he had a feeling Brian had paid for a lot of, and she dragged him to the squealing giggling girls, and Paul, Mike and Niles. Daphne said, “Did you like your stripper?”

“You traumatized that kid, next time you need a male stripper ask Brian. That poor guy was expecting a bachelorette party or some horny sorority girls and now is probably imagining gang rape or something,” Justin said.

Paul said, “Actually he’s over there talking to that Shelley girl. Seems pretty okay now that he realizes no one here really wants to see him naked.

“I think the open bar helps,” Niles offered.

Justin really wanted to see Niles and Ted do a snark off because they both had killer deadpans. But Ted had some of his porn boys hanging around him and while Niles, for a straight boy, was pretty ballsy he saw no reason to push. Mike must have seen him looking in Ted’s direction because he asked, “who is that guy some sort of Hollywood producer?”

“No he’s CFO of TKVC,” Justin said. “But Emmett over is planning the wrap party for that movie that’s being shot in Pittsburgh.”

The smaller loft had emptied out pretty much but the dance floor next door was full and the party showed no sign of breaking up now that it was after midnight. Justin wandered over to the other loft, suspecting correctly that the coolers still had soda in them. Brian came behind and wrapped his arms round him. He held the manila envelope he’d brought up from the jeep. Justin looked around. They were alone so he opened it. These keys were to a car, and the key ring was BMW.

“No,” Justin said, “Tell me you did not”

“You need a car Sunshine,” Brian said

“I don’t need a fucking Beemer,” Justin said.

Brian closed his hand around Justin’s that held the keys and said, “is a sports wagon, you can use it to haul canvases and may I point out two babies by this time next year; you can’t be driving them around in a clunker.”

So the keys went in his pocket with the house keys and he put his arms around Brian’s neck and kissed him and thanked him properly. Brian keyed up Sinatra on the iPod in that room and they were dancing to ‘Fly me to the Moon’ and in their own world when the girls came to say good bye and let Justin know they were leaving. The girls had seen him and Brian together before at the loft but not seen them dancing and as far as at least Mike and Paul went Justin got the impression he’d just crossed the gay-in-theory line into a full blown homosexual in their eyes. Not so much with the dancing but with having Brian plastered to him back to front with Brian’s arms around him as they made their good byes.

Of course by lunch Tuesday there were rumors all over school that Justin lived in an abandon building and that there had been some sort of rave there the night before with drugs and sex and rock and roll. The band had played a wicked rendition of ‘You Say It’s Your Birthday’ but Justin hadn’t drank or even dropped any club drugs because his parents and grandparents – surely Bertie counted as a grandparent by now; even though he and Grandmother seemed content to canoodle in sin – had been there. Stripper aside he loved the girls but they couldn’t keep their mouths shut to save their lives; or his.

Later, Daphne was chattering away still needing to update him on what he missed while playing hooky. Mainly that ‘swim boy’ was back in the picture and that there were Prom possibilities for him. It seemed way too early to think about Prom but April was right around the corner. Most of the senior class was already out of here at least in their heads. They were planning college dorm décor or like Sep scrambling to choose a school.

So as they rounded the corner to AP Calc and saw Chris Hobbes had Niles pushed against the wall outside the classroom; Daphne barked, “Hobbes I swear we will all be suspended together and if I get booted from Johns Hopkins for kicking you to the curb it will be worth it.”

“Yeah, Chrissy,” Justin said stepping up right in his face, “mommy and daddy told you to leave the fag alone. What do you think they’ll do when it’s you and me in the office together yet again? This time instead of calling my lawyer I’ll just tell your mom you blew me.”

Niles stepped away from Hobbes and bolted into the class. Justin and Daphne followed all the while Daphne glaring laser beams at Chris.

“I hate this fucking school,” Niles said.

Justin nodded and said, “Right there with you.”

By the time Dixon came in looking like someone owed him money the room had been quiet other than telling glances as the non-players in the drama watched to see what would happen next. Like every other class that day, Justin had the urge to stand up and announce: no, he wasn’t a stripper; that he was not currently supplementing his income by selling drugs and that his boyfriend was not with the mob. He had no idea how that last one had started, Brian had been hot but dressed casually the night before, maybe if he’d been in a suit he’d have looked intimidating but dressed casually to purportedly try out a new restaurant he only should have inspired lust.

In homeroom that morning, Dixon had sprung the information that Justin would make up the test they had Friday during his morning study hall. He had given Justin a pass and put him alone in a room with the librarian to proctor the test. Now he was handing back Friday’s test to all the class, Justin’s included. Justin intentionally did not smirk at the thought of Dixon missing his lunch to grade his test. Daphne held hers up to him it was an A+. Which was good, Dixon hadn’t said he was dropping everyone’s lowest grades to account for his premenstrual hissy fit where he gave a test three months too early. She was really trying to pull up her C from that. Since Chris sat next to her Justin couldn’t help but see he had a C on this one. Niles had an A+ as well, but that was to be expected. Justin wasn’t shocked he had an A -, he did pay attention in class and SATs weren’t that long ago. And this time he wasn’t going to art school so he figured he better remember some of this for his college classes. Business might not use calculus but some forms of art would use curves and vectors.

He was looking forward to one more period after this and then being able to head home and nap. Between the trip to Dallas and the party the night before he was beat. Daphne couldn’t believe he got a car the night before and hadn’t driven it to school but he needed to get a parking pass for the student lot. And he intended to but with the makeup test that morning had forgotten and figured he’d get it tomorrow.

He stopped Devon on his way to his last class and said, “Your boy; he’s losing it. Get him some fucking help.”

“A, he’s not my boy and B, I am in the in-crowd on his sufferance,” Devon said. “and C, he heard Missy Campbell went to your party with Jeff.”

“Who’s Jeff? And was Missy Campbell even there? I don’t think we’ve spoken since she dropped Art in freshman year,” Justin said. “And I found out about the party when I walked in its not like I made up the guest list.”

Devon glanced around at the rapidly empting corridor and Justin really didn’t have patience for his paranoia today before he said, “Jeff Thomas, they’ve only competed over everything since they were nine. God, Taylor, sometimes it’s like you don’t even go to school here.”

Give all this drama and rivalry and teenage bullshit hadn’t interested him when he had been a teenager Justin thought he could be forgiven for not having a clear memory of fourth grade twentysome years later. Instead of pointing this out to the unsuspecting Devon he said, “What does any of this have to do with Chris’ hard on for Niles? I’m sure Missy Airhead Campbell hasn’t even registered that Niles is a carbon based lifeform let alone male.”

“Niles invited her, he remembered you two hung out back when you both took Art class,” Devon said.

Justin said, “Chris isn’t just a troubled teen. He’s fucking dangerous. You let me know if he starts talking about killing someone, even if you think it’s just talk.”

Devon’s eyes widened and he looked both scared and surprised but all he said was, “Yeah okay;” before he bolted for his class.

Justin strolled into his last class just after the bell but the teacher was, as always, late. He sat down and started doing what Brian always told him not to, brooding over what had happened, what had changed, what could happen and what if anything he could do to keep people, including himself, safe without further fucking things up.

Once the teacher arrived Justin went through the motions of taking notes. Really though for a Modern Politics class they spent all their time on domestic issues like campaign finance reform and dismissed the rumblings in Afghanistan. In all the articles that she was glossing over words like Taliban jumped from the page at Justin but she had spent more time dissecting the Monica Lewinsky scandal than they had devoted to the presidential election in November. So other than pretend to take notes, Justin’s last class everyday was pretty much spent watching the clock and waiting for the last bell.

He stopped at the office on the way out, because why not he was getting to know the admin staff all by name, and he was sure he’d forget about the parking pass by morning if he didn’t. Hunt was already gone so Mrs. Hodder just filled out a form and since he wasn’t aware of his plate number asked him to bring it in tomorrow but gave him a sticker for his car’s window. Brian was home when Daphne dropped him at the loft. Brian explained that the car’s pink slip was held not under Brian’s name or his but under the sole prop he’d established to sell art under nearly a year ago. After they reunited, Justin had changed that sole proprietorship to an LLC and had Brian put on just like Brian added him to TKVC, which was how Brian could buy him a car and put it in his business’ name.

The paperwork for the studio had been messengered over and Brian recommended putting that under Taylor Art as well so that the company could take the cost of upkeep and running the studio as a business expense, the same as his car. Justin had a feeling that they would be putting their tax guy’s kids through college. Apparently they already had filed for an extension and both TKVC and Taylor Art would be filing quarterly taxes going forward, after being open less than a month Kinnetik would be as well. Ted was kind of a rock star in that he could figure out ways to save them tons of money and make sure the money they had worked to their best interest.

Now that Kinnetik was only one of the many things Ted handled, Brian was worried Ted wouldn’t even want an office in their headquarters and although Brian would never admit it Justin knew he’d miss Ted’s daily sarcasm. But knowing Ted and over the years both Brian and Justin probably knew Ted better than they knew Michael or Emmett, Ted would prefer some swanky upscale office where he could be envied by other movers and shakers. Brian thought shit like that was a losing game but they had been talking about getting a prestigious address for TKVC. Something tiny, but jewel-like, in a coveted area where Ted could crunch numbers and take meetings and impress potential investors; because now with Ted’s dot com venture they did have outside investors. Up until Brian had hired Ted, all of their risk and reward had been in-house, just between Brian and Justin. Now Ted was both investing on his own and getting backers. Justin hadn’t had much chance to talk to him at the party but apparently he had quite some interest in the gym/club/bath idea among his precious ‘A’ gays. Justin didn’t know if Brian and he would frequent it but they would buy a membership if only to pad the roster.

“What are you doing?” Brian asked.

Since Brian had been taking so many meetings in the loft they’d rearranged the furniture a bit. The couch had been turned forty five degrees to face the television and the chairs that had faced the couch were now behind it facing Brian’s desk. This saved them having to drag the dining chairs back and forth. They were more comfortable too, and that was where Justin was sitting on the other side of the desk from Brian.

Brian had been working away and Justin had joined him, but instead of drawing he was currently handwriting thank you notes from his birthday party. So he said, “Writing thank yous.”

“You said thank you a billion times last night,” Brian said.

Justin tilted his head and said with a smile, “And now, I’m saying it one last time.”

So the night was spent quietly working; Brian on his businesses and Justin on his correspondence. They both turned in around eleven and were up early to meet Michael for breakfast at the diner, because Deb had been pointed about Michael not coming in enough since he moved in with Dave. Brian dropped Justin back at the loft so he could take his own car to school that day.

After dropping of the finished paperwork at the office Justin headed for their window to meet the girls. But it was oddly deserted. A little ways off down the hall, all of the Alliance, minus Niles and Daphne but including Mike, was standing around Niles’ locker. It was an eerily familiar scene. There was still smoke coming from the locker and the words ‘die fag’ in red down the front.

“What the actual fuck?” Justin said. From the vantage of thirty plus years it was damn suspicious that this was right out in a main corridor, with random students stopping to whisper and then move on to spread gossip, but no staff members or faculty were taking any notice. “Where are Niles and Daphne?”

“It was like this when we got here,” September said, oddly subdued.

Tracy chimed in and said, “Niles tried to open it but he burnt his hand and Daphne took him to the nurse.”

“Has the administration been informed?” Justin asked.

“I don’t know,” Paul said, “Daphne was spitting mad, I’m sure if someone was injured the nurse would tell someone.”

“What do we do, Justin,” Monica asked. Why she always thought he knew what to do, he didn’t know. He hated being the token grown up.

“Mon, go tell Mr. Omler and ask for the digital camera he uses for class; if he doesn’t want to loan it to you have him come and take pictures. Trace, call Niles’ parents. If they’ve already been notified they won’t mind a second call. The rest of you guard the crime scene until someone with authority gets here,” Justin said.

As he turned to leave, Brittney asked, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to try and not scream at Mr. Hunt,” Justin said.

When Justin went back to the administration office, Mrs. Hodder greeted him with, “Back again, Justin?”

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, people will talk,” he said, and one of the other ladies who worked there snickered. “Has anyone informed Mr. Hunt of the vandalism of school and private property, injury of a student and death threat that occurred this morning?” Justin asked.

Both women suddenly looked serious and Mrs. Hodder asked, “What happened?”

“Niles Anderson’s locker was trashed, and set on fire, the words ‘Die Fag’ are painted on it, Niles burned his hand and is at the nurses station now,” He said. As the other woman scurried back to Mr. Hunt’s door and knocked, Justin added, “If he doesn’t do anything about this I am morally obligated to call the police. This is not boys being boys, I won’t stand by and see someone hurt or possibly killed.”

“No need to be melodramatic, Taylor,” Hunt said coming out of his office into the main administration area. “I think you’re overreacting.”

“You haven’t even checked it out yet, and pretending this didn’t happen, like everything else you pretend doesn’t happen, won’t do you any good when the parents of a dead kid are suing you and all the way up the chain to each individual board member,” Justin said.

“Show me,” Mr. Hunt said and they left the admin office together. The whispers and looks told Justin this was already all over the school.

Mr. Omler was there taking pictures when they arrived. Daphne and Niles came walking up, with Niles’ hand bandaged, from the direction of the nurses’ station. Tracy said something softly to Niles, probably letting him know she called his parents.

“Mr. Anderson, do you have any idea who did this?” Hunt asked.

Niles looked down and looked guilty but didn’t say anything so Justin said, “Oh come on, we all know who did this. If you haul him into the office and lean on him he’ll fold like a house of cards, he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. He’d probably believe you had the whole thing on camera. Either take care of this or I call the police, this is a death threat. This is a title nine violation and if I have to pay the legal fees myself the Anderson’s are going to hold the school responsible for any danger or injury to their son.”

“Don’t threaten me, Taylor,” Hunt said.

Justin growled, “I shouldn’t have to threaten you, Niles’ safety is your responsibility. Do something besides helping his attacker by covering this up.”

“The rest of you,” Hunt said, not just to the alliance but to all the surrounding lookie-loos, “get to your homerooms. Mr. Anderson come with me, we’ll call your parents.”

Tracy said, “They’re already on their way, and boy are they mad at you. My dad’s not too happy, right now either. Sep’s dad is out of town but Mrs. Chandlers wants to have a word with you as well and Justin’s mom said-”

“That’s enough, Miss Payne,” Mr. Hunt cut in, “off to your homerooms with you all.”

Brian flipped when Justin shared the story after school. They stopped at the studio and were having a conversation regarding preemptive strikes and the ethical conundrum of punishing someone before they committed a crime.

“I like not being crippled,” Justin said.

Brian sighed and said, “you weren’t crippled, God I hate that word.”

“I was crippled and I can say it regardless of what’s PC because I was one. I had permanent brain damage; while I may have developed coping skills and work arounds I had to live with it every day. I was here, in this new now, weeks before I realized my hand worked fine and never cramped, never shook, would do what I thought when I thought, I instantaneously stopped overcompensating. I don’t know if I can go back to the way it was, Brian. I don’t know if I can go through that all over again, it took years to retrain my brain,” Justin said.

Brian took him in his arms and nuzzled his hair and crooned, “so we both skip Prom, we can go to New York, and dance the night away to big band music, close up the social and head for the Copa.”

“And I’ll take a bat to the head when we get back,” Justin said, “but you won’t be there to save me and I’ll bleed out on a deserted floor. I’ll be like Vic and the cop. Apparently Hobbes and I have some sort of date with destiny.”

“Fuck destiny and if there is any such crap; yours is me, not with that pathetic mouth-breathing, self-loathing, closet case,” Brian said and Justin just hung on to him.

They talked over what should be coming up. Not just prom or Michael’s move to Portland but Brian’s dad’s death and Claire and his mother. Brian had gone to the funeral parlor that day in his parent’s parish, the one his dad had been laid out at the last time. He met with the owner and paid for two funerals leaving the details out but spending about the same as what he spent on them before. He’d then stopped at his dad’s club, since where else would he be at three in the afternoon. Brian gave his dad the envelope with the paperwork, suggesting he stop by and let them know what he wanted as far as details.

While he was there they got to talking and he told his dad that another baby was planned. Jack, perhaps due to how much he’d been drinking said he’d wished he’d been able to just send Joan checks and go about his life. He said that Brian had the right idea about how to have kids. Apparently Claire was split from her husband again. And given the Joan didn’t approve of divorce as it was a sin she kept nagging her to fix her marriage. One of his dad’s buddies asked if Brian would be hosting a real wake. Remembering the somber and holy send-off Joan had it was a given that that wouldn’t happen but Brian said he wasn’t paying for a party if Jack couldn’t attend. So the idea was put forth, not by Brian, that they should have the Kinney wake there at the club before Jack died.

The older men started talking about getting in touch with guys from the plant that weren’t in the neighborhood anymore and it sounded to Brian like any other night for this crew – excessive alcohol and remembering the good old days. Since Jack wasn’t doing so good, but still declined hospice care it was planned for the coming Saturday night. Brian talked to the bartender and asked what these things usually cost; before handing over his credit card and signing for a bulk charge. It was more of a bachelor party than a wake and his mother would probably never hear about it, unless the guys stopped by and talked about it when Claire asked for shared memories.

As Brian recounted that to Justin he spoke of how puzzling his own lack of bitterness was. He’d always had such anger toward both his parents. Brian couldn’t figure out why they just seemed so sad and small now. He’d buried them both with them hating him right up to the end and yet now he just felt tired when he thought of them. It wasn’t so much he wished them dead and he had before. He remembered at thirteen, seventeen, twenty five, just wishing they would both drop dead so he would never have to deal with all their shit again; but now, having buried each of them once before, it was as if he didn’t want to waste the energy on them.

Justin understood, or at least hummed appreciatively at the appropriate points. Of course Justin’s only comment about the pre-wake Saturday was, “you should go,” as if that was going to happen. Brian went out to pick up some Thai, there was a restaurant in Squirrel Hill with better food than the one near the loft but they didn’t deliver. And Justin put some time into finishing up his work on the music tribute. Ms. Hoffman had left him a voice mail and he was to meet with her and a grad student from Duquesne University who was working on her thesis and might be interested in putting together a historical retrospect using some of her research on the era. Justin had digital photos of all the paintings on his lap top and would take that with him when they met on Saturday at the Centre.

After dinner Justin put in a few more hours work on the paintings while Brian toiled away on his own lap top at the built in banquette. They were turning into an old married couple. With all the worry about the events that may happen and throwing themselves into setting up Kinnetik their youth was going to pass them by. When Justin said this to him Brian drawled that they had been together longer than most old married couples, and added Friday was another ‘Studs and Suds’ at Babylon. Since Brian had usually avoided those when he’d spent an hour gelling his hair to perfection, Justin figured this was his way of being adventuresome, now that he was using less product.


	59. You look like you're both pretty groovy.

 

Thursday morning they all caught up before class at their spot. Niles detailed his parents reaction to the idea his locker was vandalized. Justin made sure he gave Niles Mel’s contact information, not only if he wanted to use her for his Title Nine pursuits but if he went with a different lawyer he figured the depositions from the previous encounter with Hunt would demonstrate his reluctance to remove his head from his ass and could save the Anderson’s time and money.

Tracy had apparently gone home referring to the incident as a death threat, and those words got Justin a glare from Niles who thought they were a bit much, and her dad was calling board members and putting the fear of Frank Payne in them. Say what you will for private schools but the lockers in that row had all been repainted overnight and Niles had all new text books and his parents had been compensated for his personal items in the locker. However, as far as anyone could tell, Chris Hobbes had not even been questioned about where he’d been when the damage occurred.

Devon, who was still unwilling to be seen with Justin at school, had called the night before, because Justin really needed one more gossip buddy, with a warning that Hobbes had heard Justin had all but accused him by name. And then Devon became indignant with Justin when he asked if Devon had been with Hobbes when he vandalized the locker. After the squawking and exchanged profanity, Devon had confided that as far as he could tell none of the ‘in crowd’ was admitting to being there or seeing anything, which in itself was suspicious because some of those kids would have claimed to have been at Woodstock.

Lunch was an impromptu meeting of the Alliance. Aside from plotting death and destruction, Sep wanted to setup a real membership drive and start the day tomorrow with the hot pink flyers and a coffee station every Monday morning to raise funds for the club not the charity. Paul pointed out they needed underclassmen to keep the club going once they graduated or anything they raised would go back into a general student activity coffer. They had twelve people registered to go for disease screening already. Personally, Justin thought these were people hoping to give the illusion that they had a sex life but he volunteered to be one of the drivers – now that he had a car. If more signed up tomorrow they might run out of cars.

In regard to their non-profit, the internet was bringing in a surprising number of donations. No one donation was very large but there were so many little ones that it added up. Sep had sent the link out on all her Yahoo Groups asking other internet writers to post it on their webpages and LiveJournal’s. It was on some webrings and she had sent emails to every LGBT website asking them on behalf of the St. James Straight Gay Alliance to put links along with details on ‘Everybody’s Child’.

Daphne had networked with the women at Redstone and they through their Red Hat group had gotten flyers out to many of the churches and fire halls and country clubs with the p. o. box information so checks, again not large but hundreds of twenty dollar checks added up. She also had mailed details on ‘Everybody’s Child’ to every public school student council in Allegheny and the surrounding counties, with a list of fundraisers idea stating that there would be an award for the school in each county that raise the most money for the charity. Her reasoning being that this was a way for students to reach out to their peers and help kids just like themselves who were not as fortunate. She also informed Justin he was designing the awards and that they should be awesome, three dimensional and suitable to be put in trophy cases.

Tracy had contacted the drama departments of Pitt and CMU and was lining up volunteers for the shadow cast for ‘Rocky Horror’. Emmett had screened some of the venues near campus and reserved ‘Soldiers and Sailors Memorial’ for them on Friday the thirteenth. The auditorium held over two thousand three hundred people and the whole thing wouldn’t be worth it if they were not getting a charitable discount on the cost. Any funds they would raise would be eaten up if they damaged the museum so they would be selling kits to participate to keep down the crap messing up the seats. Tracy estimated the need to have at least thirty volunteers to clean up after the show. Traditionally it would be a midnight show, which accounted for the state of drunkenness of the audience but the venue didn’t want them there all night cleaning up so it would start at ten and they should be cleaned up and out by one. It took almost the whole lunch period to decide that since they were not planning to let anyone with their own food or stuff to throw that they should include the price of the participation kits in the admission price; and not sell food or drink in the lobby.

They did not however agree on what the admission price should be. Justin didn’t think they’d fill the hall if they charged more than ten dollars but the girls spent more than that on coffee and wanted to charge twenty. So they tabled their wildly different views of college students’ finances but had to decide soon because they needed to get the word out about the event and it would be on Friday the thirteenth which was just a couple weeks away.

Justin’s phone vibrated in his afternoon study hall and he saw, surprisingly it was Kal so he took the call, despite the glare from the teacher at the front grading papers. Apparently Lindsay hadn’t got back yet from where ever she was and he had a class to get to and couldn’t take Gus. He’d called Brian but Brian was in Latrobe meeting potential clients and even if he canceled the meeting couldn’t be back to Pittsburgh in time. Mel was in court that day and had her phone turned off because judges were surprisingly not sympatric regarding emergency phone calls, kind of like study hall teachers.

So Justin was now on the parent call list. He said he would be on his way and went to the teacher and asked if he could go to the admin office to get an early dismissal. Once there he explained to Mrs. Hodder that the au pair had a child care emergency and he was the only adult available. She wrote him an excuse and he was thankful he had a car when he headed for Highland Park where the girls lived; of course he wasn’t going to tell Brian he was right about his needing a car or anything.

Kal was ridiculously grateful and dashed off. Justin once making sure Gus was napping away upstairs, clipped the baby monitor to his uniform pants and made himself at home in the living room. He ditched his tie and rolled up his sleeves before texting Brian to let him know he had the Gus situation under control. He then, mass texted the girls to let them know that he had cut out early for the day due to a childcare emergency. He needed to talk to Lindsay anyway; he’d never gotten a chance to ask about the photoshoot with the guy from ‘Time Magazine’. It was business and while he had no problem with discussing it in front of Brian, if it was a screw up on Lindsay’s part he didn’t feel comfortable in pointing it out in front of others.

He spent some time working on ideas for the awards Daphne wanted the non-profit to issue for fundraising and design poster/flyers for the ‘Rocky Horror’ show. He was pretty lost in his work when he heard, “Justin?” and looked up to see Mel.

Checking his watch it was nearly a quarter ‘til six and given Brian had been in Latrobe he was probably stuck in traffic somewhere. Justin said, “Hi, Mel. Surprise?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Justin said, “Kal had class and he really can’t miss any more. He couldn’t reach you so he called Brian who’s way out East and couldn’t make it back before Kal’s class so, here I am.”

“Where’s Lindsay?” Mel said.

Justin had kind of a sinking feeling but just shrugged and opted to change the subject, “Kal didn’t say, but I’m sure she would have been here if she could. How was your day?”

Mel made that face, as if God created WASPs to try her patience, but said it went well and she’d won her case. Justin told her about what happened with Niles’ locker and mention he’d given her name to Niles and his parents and had spoken with Niles’ mom about her rights under Title Nine. He asked if he would need to sign anything to give them access to the records they’d compiled so far and Mel offered to give Mrs. Anderson a call.

Mel went upstairs to change and Justin retrieved Gus and changed and fed him. It was a while later when Mel came downstairs in jeans and a tee shirt. He looked up at her from playing on the floor with Gus and said, “Okay, I hang with enough teenaged girls to know that look, you have gossip.” And Mel didn’t bounce or squee but she was still a girl and Justin knew that spark in her eye was the sign of a need to share, “What is it? Tell me before you burst.”

“It’s just, I wanted to share this with Lindsay first but she’s not here,” Mel said.

Justin jumped up and hugged her, and then tried to remember if he’d ever hugged Mel because she just wasn’t the type of girl who hugged while he said, “Oh my God you’re pregnant! Congratulations, Mom!”

“Did you not just hear me say I wanted to share it with Lindsay first,” she said, but hugged him back, hard. Justin was kind of impressed with how strong Mel was.

He dropped down to Gus and said, “Hey you? You’re a big brother. How cool is that?” Looking up at Mel he said, “She can still be the first person you tell. You didn’t tell me. I won’t even tell Brian until you give me the go ahead. Of course the go ahead better be in the next twenty four hours or I may explode.”

“I’ve been taking the test every morning before I go to work and every evening when I get home, I wanted her to be here when I got a positive,” Mel said.

Justin now felt bad for blurting it out and said, “So take it again in the morning and let her be in on getting the results.”

“That would be lying,” Mel said.

Justin said, “No, this could be a false positive, tell her you saw it tonight and wanted to make sure in the morning.”

Mel’s smile said she saw right though him and she said, “thanks for stepping up, but you don’t have to stay.”

“I feel like now you’re eating for two I should feed you,” Justin said.

Mel said, “I’ll be fine. Kal’s classes start at three, did you have to leave school?”

“All I missed was Calc and Modern Politics, I wish I could just test out of both of them they put me to sleep,” Justin said. “He ate; he’s clean, and wound up and ready to play. Have Lindz call Brian tomorrow so he can give me the good news okay?”

Justin stopped at a little Mediterranean wine bar in Highland Park and ordered a cheese plate, two beet salads; a cauliflower risotto and charred octopus; texting Brian not to pick up dinner while he waited for the order. When he came home the table was set, soft music was on and Brian was toiling away at his desk. It was after seven when they sat down and Brian finally asked where Lindsay had been.

“She didn’t show, not before I left,” Justin said, “I left Gus with Mel, who didn’t seem too worried. But those two play any problems they’re having close to the vest. Remember when they were living apart and put up that front for everyone.”

Brian finished his salad and took a sip of wine before saying, “I really don’t think they’d be having another kid if they were having problems. I don’t get it; last time it was Mel who cheated.”

“We don’t know why. We weren’t there and we don’t know what she was feeling when she did,” Justin said. “Maybe having an au pair, having someone to watch Gus while they spend time together or go out kept her from feeling trapped. Do we even know why Lindsay cheated?”

Brian shrugged, “I talked to her but really didn’t listen. And she tends to edit things to put herself in a more favorable light. I’m sure she did the same thing when she had problems with me and was talking to Mel. It was one of the reasons we never got along. We never did get to know each other without our own Lindsay-bias. I love her like family but she can be just as selfish as me, only she’s ashamed of it and tries to hide it behind other stuff like concern for other or all those WASPy manners.”

“I can get why she does that with everyone else but you are the poster boy for the belief that you should do what’s best for you, that’s one of the reasons I never felt the need to gloss over the bad stuff. I like that you’ve seen me at my worst and still want me in your life,” Justin said.

Brian lifted his glass to Justin and said, “Right back at you, Sunshine. Who wants to spend time with someone you have to be nice to?”

Michael called and Brian and he were on the line for a while, since Brian said they were staying in that night. Michael must have really been putting on the pressure because Brian confirmed they were going to Studs and Suds the next night and made plans to meet Michael and David at Woody’s before that.

While they were chatting Justin got a call from September, she was at HD’s because he cousin Marc was in town and staying in their guest room. She had an idea about his objection on the price point. She had been one of the few to agree that college kids wouldn’t spend twenty dollars to see ‘Rocky Horror’ even with a professional grade shadow cast, a prop kit and a large and involved crowd. But, as she pointed out, high school kids would. They were underage, couldn’t go to bars and most would spend more than twenty seeing some craptastic Hollywood swill. She thought they should do what Daphne did and send out posters and flyers to all the schools in Allegheny and the surrounding counties. Since it was a fundraiser most would post them and even if they only got a couple kids from each school the venue would fill up. It might also give some of the other schools ideas to pull of big fundraisers.

So Sep started running the numbers and if they could keep the cost of the items in the prop kits down so that the cost of them and the venue combined was less than ten dollars a ticket, assuming they sold at least two thousand tickets at twenty dollars each they had the potential to make twenty thousand dollars. Justin thought that it was a risky situation because if they didn’t sell all those tickets they could end up in debt for the rental of the venue. He did offer to work on the poster and flyer design with a space for the ticket price to be added. He also asked her to tell the guys that they would be meeting Michael and David at Woody’s before heading to Babylon tomorrow night; which of course led to Sep nagging him for a girls’ night at Babylon. So he had that to look forward to at lunch tomorrow.

September kept him on the line another twenty minutes with her dilemma on what school to pick. Duke was now in the running since she’d received a letter from them. All the other schools were in Pennsylvania, but she kind of liked the movie college experience which involved going away. Until she got an actual look at dorm rooms and the idea she’d have to share a tiny space with a stranger. Her dad and Tracy’s dad had conferred and were offering to buy them a condo in Oakland if she went local which would be Pitt, CMU or Duquesne. Justin pointed out that with how much her dad traveled if she picked Duke he just might relocate to North Carolina.

When they both finally got off the phone Brian said he was pretty sure they had the ‘Spirit Air’ account out of Latrobe airport. It was a small airline and a similar campaign to the one they were planning for ‘Grissom Air’ could be used since their markets didn’t overlap. Regardless though with all the accounts they were getting it was clear they needed to start hiring. The art twins were on board, and Shelley, but Brian was concerned that they were relying too much on Justin and that either school or his art was going to get pushed out. Justin was concerned they were relying too much on Brian and that he wouldn’t be able to have fun and enjoy his life. Unfortunately, Brian pointed out that the only person who showed any creative potential from Ryder was Kip and he was lazy and too risky to hire. His two best people from Kinnetik 1.0 hadn’t graduated from college yet and another was still living in Houston – or so they assumed. Justin pointed out that Brian could be fucking scary when he was mad and if he kept Kip on a short leash and a contract that said he was not permitted to bang coworkers they might be able to get some use out of him. They tabled that discussion when sex came up.

Friday morning was spent handing out flyers and condoms. His morning study hall was spent in the Art shop mocking up a three-D model of the awards ‘Everybody’s Child’ would issue for fundraising. He had designed four progressively smaller for the winner and first, second and third place, and figured they would issue four per county, you know if more than four schools in a given county participated. If a school got one this year it would make them up their efforts to compete next year. He also designed a certificate for all competitors detailing how much they contributed. Since there was only about three months left they weren’t expecting much this year but it could easily become an annual event. They would be able to stay involved in the non-profit in college. As far as the Alliance went, Monica was at Daphne’s elbow determined to keep the St. James Gay Straight Alliance going next year. She informed both Justin and Tracy she would be relying on them since they would be in town.

At lunch they finalized the idea for the fundraiser, Justin had mocked up the posters and flyers to be sent to schools and Daphne had applied for and received their own non-profit bulk mail number with a detailed printout from the mailbox place on how the mail had to be organized and dropped off to use for ‘Everybody’s Child’ mass mailings. Daphne would take care of printing labels and dropping off the mail at the post office since she already had a mailing list of schools sorted by county set up on her computer. However once they got everything printed there was a party planned at the Chandlers for them all to packaged it for mailing and to slap on labels and get it all boxed for the post office.

Afternoon study hall he actually caught up on homework and studied. Calc and Modern Politics dragged on terminally. And he met the girls walking out to the parking lot. The drivers were Daph, Sep, Niles, Paul, Mike surprisingly and Justin. Thankfully Sep had brought an SUV and Niles had a town car, if it wasn’t for that and his own sport wagon they would never have fit all twenty two kids who met them in the parking lot. Justin was glad that it was nearly April and school ended in June since this little excursion was scheduled to be a monthly event sponsored by the club. At the most this should only happen two more times and if they pushed it back to the middle of May maybe only once.

He didn’t know any of the six kids he drove to the clinic and still sometimes felt like a zoo exhibit when his classmates looked at him like that. He could almost hear a voice over narrating a documentary ‘see the homosexual in his natural environment’ as they convoyed to the clinic. While the staff had been prepared by a call earlier, these kids were nervous and giddy, some wanting privacy and others insisted on dragging a bestie in with them.

While they, the drivers, waited, Justin suggested they divide up the city on dropping kids home or back at school so they were not all driving around for hours. Daph and Sep were going to take everyone who lived on the other side of the Allegheny and Paul and Mike would take everyone who lived on the other side of the Mon, leaving Justin and Niles everyone who lived in between the rivers or who was heading back to school. Provided, of course the seating and numbers worked out when they got them all back together again.

Brian and he were texting back and forth while he waited for his charges to be done. He was devoting Saturday to storyboarding the animation for the upcoming healthcare commercials.

“God you’re such an old married couple you can’t be apart for a couple hours and not checkup,” Daphne said, plopping down next to him.

Justin said, “This is actually about work. One of our clients is going with animated commercials, so surprise – I’m an animator, just like I always wanted to be.”

“That’s great,” she said giving him a big smile. “Are there any blue meanies?”

Justin laughed and said, “Damn those copyright infringements.”

“Sep said she got to see the buildings you bought,” Daphne said. Justin heard warning sirens of the girl variety, they sounded like ‘I’m your best friend how could you show her before me’.

Justin said, “She’s ahead of me, I haven’t seen them since the night of the sale. Brian goes by now and then to make sure the design is on track but not having the in with HD that Sep has I do not walk around live construction sites. I can’t imagine there’s much to see yet. I thought they were still on demo and asbestos removal.”

They had to ax one car from the other side of the Monongalia and use it for back to the school delivery. Given how many of the kids that they had shuttled, had their own cars and could have gone themselves Justin was planning to suggest that next time they ask and make some of them the drivers.

He was able to nap a bit, perhaps because of, rather than in spite of, the distraction of sex; before they got dressed for the night. Dressing for a foam party this time of year, when the temperature could fluctuate between 35 and 50 in the same day, was an adventure in itself. Brian had bundled towels and sweats to leave in the car so if the temp dropped below freezing by the time they left they wouldn’t catch pneumonia. Justin pulled on jeans over his board shorts and slipped on a pair of flip flops. Brian actually had a pair of pool shoes that slipped on and would give traction in the soapy foam. Brian took his shades and Justin had a pair of swim googles that matched his turquoise tee shirt. Brian had an acid green tank that went with his swimsuit and wore a black and white patterned short sleeve shirt over it to go into Woody’s to meet the guys.

When they got there Emmett was in pink and orange with a flowered swim cap swinging from its chin strap around his wrist that Justin hoped he didn’t intend to wear. Dave was in jeans and a red tee shirt and Michael in board shorts and a blue tee shirt. Ted wasn’t there and HD was over by the pool table in a pair of cut-off jeans that dangerously approached Daisy Dukes and looked old enough and tight enough to have been from high school. He was wearing a white tank top but Justin was pretty sure not a man in the bar could raise their eyes above his waist. Playing pool with him against two other guys was a slightly smaller, copy of him in black jeans and gray MIT tee shirt; so that must be his brother, Marc.

For a straight guy Marc seemed oddly at home in a gay bar. Currently he and HD were kicking ass against two of the best players Woody’s had. Granted HD’s little brother took shameless advantage of the fact he was smoking hot and that their opponents seemed pretty distracted by HD’s shorts. Emmett said Marc wasn’t heading to ‘studs and suds’ with them, not because a room full of hot, slippery gay men frightened him but because loud, soulless techno pop did. September was ogling the clientele while the Davis brothers owned the pool table and was there because Marc was taking her to the Iceoplex once it closed to the public for a late night pick up game. Marc was about six four, had a ready smile and riveting blue eyes, and a mouth that would have gotten him killed if not for his bad ass older brother.

“Honey?” HD called over to where the rest of them sat at a table and Brian gave Emmett a smirk at the endearment.

Emmett rolled his eyes called back, “Yeah, baby?”

“You remember how we forgot to talk when you got home from the wrap party for that big Hollywood production you did last night, because Sep and Marc were there?” HD asked and came over to help himself to the various appetizers on the table.

“Was that sarcasm?” Brian asked Justin.

“By big Hollywood he means the big name in the movie is Scott Baio,” Emmett said.

“So. You really catered a wrap party, in Pittsburgh. Who else can say that?” Justin said.

Emmett nodded to Justin and said, “Baby what did we forget to talk about yesterday?”

“About how Jud called and he’s going to stay with us when he comes up for an interview,” HD said.

Emmett was speechless. Justin asked, “Who is Jud?” And Brian just laughed at the look on Em’s face.

“My homophobic brother Jud is coming to Pittsburgh. Why? He’s a roughneck, what can he possibly be interviewing for?” Emmett said.

HD shrugged and said, “Site surveys for natural gas or something. I thought you two were getting along better there near the end?”

“We get along fine as long as we’re on different sides of the Mason Dixon line,” Emmett said.

Once the food was gone and they were all sufficiently fueled up, they ditched their jeans in the car and all headed to Babylon. Ted showed up late, with about six of the guys from the website. HD said he looked like he was shooting a gay Robert Palmer video and asked if they were following him everywhere now.

It turned out Sap, or whomever he had working for him, didn’t dilute the soap correctly and there were a lot of irritated eyes. Brian’s sunglasses and Justin’s goggles prevented any damage but both Michael and HD had to head to the bathrooms to rinse out their eyes. Other than that, and one of Ted’s boys tripping over someone who fell and twisting his ankle, there were no major injuries. Foam was dumped periodically and after they realized it was not harmless they stayed out from under it until it was surging across the dance floor. Beach balls were being kept aloft by the crowd and someone was tossing a Frisbee from overhead on the catwalks. At midnight the DJ broke out the surf songs of the Sixties and they discovered Dave had a freakishly encyclopedic knowledge of the Beach Boys and Jan and Dean. Not because he was old enough to remember them but because he’d been in show choir in high school and they’d done some sort of tribute in a competition.

They all looked like drowned soapy rats, but that didn’t stop them from heading to the diner, minus Ted who took his asset or employee or whatever to the emergency room to have his ankle x-rayed. The six of them got the big corner booth and Justin wondered if Debbie had left it unbussed so it would be there for them when they arrived. They had hit the car to ditch their eye gear and grab some clothes to pull over their swimwear.

The talk ranged from work to Dave and Michael’s upcoming double date with Tracey and Chris to see ‘The Pajama Game’ at the Benedum Center. With barely a flick of his lashes, Brian communicated ‘thank God it’s not us’ to Justin and asked how Tracey was. Now that Michael was store manager, Tracey had been promoted to assistant manager. Michael started pondering aloud if it was unethical for him to socialize with her since technically she was his employee. Emmett thought it was, HD just muttered something about this being why he didn’t work for other people.

Deb seemed inordinately pleased to see Michael and Justin flashed Brian a WTF look. With a quirk of his lips and a lift of his shoulder he communicated ‘I’ll tell you later’ and they ordered. On the way back to the loft Brian said, “Remember how he was when he and Ben moved to the suburbs and they were kissing up to Chip and Dale?”

“Yeah,” Justin said, easily translating Brian speak for the diner party from hell.

Brian said, “He’s living the life of Mrs. Doctor Dave and hasn’t been round to the diner much. I think they’re still doing Sunday dinner, the same way we manage to stop at Redstone for brunch but that’s not the same. Deb’s used to seeing him every day.”

“Well, she wanted it. She came over and demanded you get them back together,” Justin said. “If she changed her mind tell her you’ve been forbidden to interfere and she should find another patsy.”

Brian drawled as he parked the car outside the loft, “Forbidden?”

“I have a brand new flogger and I’m not afraid to use it,” Justin said severely, or as severely as he could since he couldn’t stop grinning.

Brian said, “I seem to recall you have a lot of new toys.”

“That I do,” Justin said, “Would you like to come up and play with me, Mr. Kinney.”

 


	60. Notes and a request for spectulation

Normally I don’t write notes, I feel that they distract from the story. 

So, I’m inserting this in its own slot, where it can be easily ignored or responded to directly. It may get deleted afterwards to preserve the story as fiction and if it does this is no reflection on any comments or insights that may be deleted with it.

But, I’m confused – DESTINY vs Free Will. Talk among yourselves, but let me know what you come up with. 

How charted out are our lives? Do actions have consequences? I didn’t think I needed to put a warning that plot points from the original series may change. However, there is no way anyone, even if they intended to change nothing could succeed in doing so. If Brian and Justin wracked their brains and tried to remember ever detail of their lives and recreate them, they would fail. 

And because every day of their current lives doesn’t have them in the same spot at the same time, everyone who comes or came into contact with them changes. Say Brian skips breakfast one day or arrives earlier or later. Because of that Michael is late or early to where he goes or doesn’t go to the same places he went to in the original timeline, it’s a domino effect, he either misses meeting someone or meets them and he’d rushed and rude and doesn’t make the same impression or makes a better impression. 

So the whole JR issue has me boggled. Even if Michael and Mel go to the clinic the same day as before, things have changed, they will not be to the minute with their conception and even if they were out of all the sperm that is vying for that single cell, it might not be the same one. 

Also Brian often mentions things that haven’t happen yet, he does it sardonically or in jest but once Mel thought to check to see if medicine had advanced enough to help her; the wheels were in motion. If Brian had turned her down, that didn’t mean Michael would be the father. Remember her talk with Ted while everyone was out of town. Ted was her first choice but he said he didn’t want kids. Brian wasn’t her first choice but choosing him would make Gus and the new baby biological siblings. And this is a different Brian, he’s grown up and Mel has been exposed to him for a year now, because he was acting differently throughout Lindsay’s pregnancy, the reader doesn’t see that because – it’s a Justin-centric story.

In the original series, I always found Lindsay and Mel’s choices of who fathered their children very telling as to their own values, personality and hopes for the future. Lindsay chose a good provider, Brian was upwardly mobile, a workaholic and had little chance of forming ties to compete with her child. Mel picked a man who offered family ties, an emotional support system and was available to babysit. She had little expectation of Michael being a major financial support of her child. Unlike her expectations of Brian, there was no indication that Michael was asked to take out an insurance policy with Jenny as the beneficiary. Lindsay picked someone who could step up and take Mel’s place if something happened to her, while Mel picked someone who could take Lindsay’s place. 

Brian is over ten years older and wiser than he was as of the last episode of QAF. He has many advantages he uses in business but he has even more on a personal level. He knows Lindsay, Mel and Michael, not only better than they think he does but possibly better than they know themselves. He decided upon start of the reboot that it would be better for himself in the long run and better for Gus if his relationship with Mel went smoother. Think of that sister-in-law you aren’t fond of but who is family nevertheless. I imagine he was surprised just how antagonistic they were to each other when he first stepped back, so to speak, their relationship had mellowed over the years of parenting together. But as an older and wiser version of himself he stopped baiting her and Mel is smart enough to know she would look bad if she kept fighting when he wasn’t. 

She probably still thinks he’s up to something but at this point I think she would have been more likely to approach Emmett than Michael to father her child. I’m basing that not on my personal views that genetically Emmett is a much more appealing package but on the interaction between the characters though season one and only season one, because Mel unlike Brian and Justin does not know the next four seasons or the next fourteen years. She was Ted’s friend and as such probably spent more time with Emmett than Michael as other than the aborted bris, really had nothing to do with Michael in season one. 

I had intended to do only season one in this reboot because I was sure that by the end of that season it would be so hopelessly off track that it would have little to do with the series anymore. But certain plot points won’t be wrapped up by then and I may have to extend this through season two. The thing is JR could still be a possibility if Mel decides she wants another kid, but my question regarding Free Will and Destiny is based on the choices Brian and Justin are making and will make. 

I realize as a fan that I get attached to certain characters (Emmett) and don’t want anyone slamming them or putting them down but the fact that Brian and Justin know what the future was and may not be lock stepping in the same direction wasn’t something I’ve considered in an ethical light. The two of them are in a new, old reality. Are they obligated to follow the path they took before, to prevent inconveniencing others? Brian had two choices when Mel asked him to father her child, yes or no. He couldn’t make her let Michael be the father, and right now in his life Michael would probably have said no. He has his plateful with a new relationship. He and Ben were to together a while before he agreed to that kind of commitment. If Brian had turned her down, it would have impacted the fragile working relationship they have. 

I think all the show’s original characters went through growing pains throughout the five years in production. They could have all made better choices and acted less immature. But without conflict or uncertainty there isn’t much point in telling a story, or making a TV series. Some of them grew up better than others, some had more burdens, enablers, or less motivation, but they all changed somewhat from beginning to end. The purpose of the reboot was to explore if I knew then, what I know now. Justin was/is the central character of this fiction because he was a, if not the, central character of the show. The show started with him walking onto Liberty Avenue and ended when he left for New York. 

I wanted to examine regrets. Frequently those aren’t for what you did do, but for what you didn’t, for relationships you let die and for the ones you wasted years trying to hold on to. Brian has lost a lot of the baggage that guided his actions in the series. He is often, such as with his dad, just discovering that he isn’t weighed down with things he left along the way to growing up. This may make him seem out of character, but if he was too in character for the original series I would be more worried. Brian was a complex man and to think that he didn’t mature over the decade in which his son grew up would be out of character to my view of him, which is that he is both savvy and adaptable. 

Justin is now, mentally, the age Brian was when the series ended. He comes from privilege and regardless of the trials of the series his decade plus time in New York was pretty sweet, sure his apartment was micro but he had Brian even if he was in a different city and they made an effort to see each other at least monthly and to take trips together. They had an enviable life, albeit not enough time. So now that they have more time I don’t see him making the same decisions. 

But are things such things as fixed points in time. Brian has pondered this in the fiction but the loom of fate is a fancy based upon his observation of comparing the two versions of Vic’s entrapment. There is no higher authority speaking to the time travelers in this fic, their pondering the outcomes and trying to make sense of it like the rest of us who travel forward in time a day at a time.


	61. Or if you want something visual

 

 

Justin worked from the loft Saturday. Fortunately he’d had no reaction from the foam so he was itch free, if a little red eyed. He was animating on the computer and scanning sketches in for the commercial series. It was actually based on a popular series of ads he’d seen years in the future which had stuck with him due to his love of animation. When he’d mentioned it to Brian and they pondered what plagiarism was and figured as long as he didn’t steal the characters or actual style; lots of ads were animated. Since his would be coming out years before the other he had no intention of suing them it the same series was made. Given that much of Brian’s phenomenal success since coming back had not only been a second shot at the accounts he missed but remembering which presentations had won the client over from on the competitions behalf, it wasn’t the first theft of intellectual property since the reset.

Brian was off with Mikey to hit some comic book stores and in general hang out and behave like ‘Bevis and Butthead’. Justin kept meaning to talk to Lindsay about the ‘Time Magazine’ thing but they really didn’t take business meetings and he didn’t want to put her on the spot in front of other people so he’d never got around to it. And if something was hinky on the Linz and Mel front he really didn’t want to get involved in it, especially now that Mel was pregnant.

Justin had a large meat lover’s pizza delivered with a couple two liter bottles of Coke at lunch time figuring he could nibble on it throughout the day. Now that it was after dark he was kind of hungry for a salad or piece of fruit. He put the last four pieces of pizza a plastic bag in the fridge and sliced up an apple. He had made good headway on the campaign. He was pretty confident that barring catastrophes or childcare emergencies he could finish the first ad by the end of the week. Given how Brian hadn’t called he wondered if after he and Michael parted ways he had stopped at Jack’s club for the not-wake.

+

The Sixties to Brian had always meant Andy Warhol, the Rolling Stones, Mod Suits and Cuban heels, Dr. No and Mary Quaint’s fashions. Looking at the photos and memorabilia of his dad’s youth it was more baseball and Johnny Cash, the Sixties started for his dad with the Pirates winning the pennant and ended with him being thankful he was older and had a wife and daughter, for whom he was the sole support, because the Vietnam Draft was starting.

His dad looked so young in most of the photos. All his friends did. They were drunk kids happy to have enough money in their pockets to buy beer and squire pretty girls with bouffant hair around in truly ugly cars. Not a Jag in sight all big, square frames, although his old man had a fairly respectable Camaro the year before Claire was born. Life had been a poorly dressed party until they started settling down.

Jack had always bitched about how he wasn’t meant to settle down and should never have married Joan. But he never said what would have done if he hadn’t. Brian might have prided himself on never giving into the pressure to conform. But an unmarried straight guy in the Sixties, well the Church hadn’t been the only thing putting pressure on his old man to marry the girl he got knocked up. All his friends were pairing off, some happily and some unhappily but for them it was as unquestioning as getting a job, getting married was just something you had to do.

Brian could relate, from the time he graduated college at twenty two until, at least this time through, a week after Gus was conceived, when he was twenty eight years old, almost the first question his mother had asked him whenever he saw her, after of course if he was going to mass, was ‘when are you going to settle down’. In fact he used that question, that he could always rely on being asked as his segue into ‘when I find a nice young man – surprise – I’m queer’. It had been too much to hope that that would be enough to drive them both out of his life. It hadn’t been the first time. But Joan had her hands full with Jack’s cancer and hadn’t been around to pray at him. She was probably too busy using the time Jack had left to pray at him, the poor bastard.

Over all the years he and Justin were ‘together’, everyone, but especially Michael and Lindsay, were either waiting for it to end or pushing them to conform to their expectations of what a ‘relationship’ was. It was actually kind of weird living together now. The fact that they were on top of each other with all their shit, was the down side, but not having that countdown over their head of when they would be parted and how long it would be until they saw each other again made up for it. They did need more space and Brian had Judith keeping her eye open. He wanted a building, industrial or commercial, at least two stories high, it should have a roof top view and either have or have the potential for parking.

They could use part of the first floor for parking and convert a lobby/entrance hall on the first floor, maybe an office with seating so they could receive people without dragging them in up into their home. The main living floor should be at least the size of HD and Emmett’s place. He liked the idea of sliding screens to break up the space for privacy but that could be left open otherwise. He wanted a room for the kids to stay the night when they got older, office space for him and studio space for Justin and he wanted a roof top view, preferably with a hot tub and deck. All of this should be as close to downtown as possible, no suburban nightmares, and no more estates in the country, neither of them would be anything other than city boys and if they had an urge to see nature they could vacation at a five star resort and look at it from the window of a limo.

No, he wasn’t making Jack’s mistake. He would never settle and he would never march to the beat of someone else’s conformity. And if he didn’t die in his forties, he was fully capable of seeing that Justin never regretted having an older lover. Who needed Viagra when there was a wealth of sex toys available? Hell, given Justin’s exhibitionist nature he could just set up a film crew and get him off and it wasn’t like watching him fuck other guys was a hardship. They might never be the perfect little Stepford Fags of Michael’s suburban dreams or be nominated as the queer community’s power couple that Lindsay seemed to aspire to, but Brian could see that where ever they ended up they were happy. No settling, no compromising, they would bitch and argue and face the world back-to-back kicking and spitting at everyone who claimed to know better.

“Hey Sonny Boy, come have a drink,” Jack called and Brian let the bartender pour him a Jameson’s. At least some of the poor geezers were eating the food that was set out on a buffet table. Chicken, rigatoni, pierogis, scalloped potatoes, cold cuts, rolls and salad; the typical funeral lay out in the neighborhood. Brian had sprung for two full kegs and a dozen bottles of whiskey, with the understanding with the house that anything not drank today, would stay on the old man’s account until he kicked it.

Brian asked, “So which of you were at that game?” The talk had been about the 1960 World Series and he knew that question would set them all off for another round of ‘I remember’ and he could maybe slip out soon. And it did, but he noticed Jack wasn’t joining in and he said to him, “You know, people still meet, by the old Forbes Field wall. They get together every October 5th, and play the game on tape. And listen like it’s the first time.”

“No shit?” Jack said, “I guess we all want to hold on to the good times.” Jack looked down at his glass and then over at Brian. Brian wondered what he saw, his fag son; the millstone around his neck that stole his youth, someone not dying. He still remembered the first time when Jack had told him it should have been him. Once Brian knew what staring the end of your life in the eye was like he realized it was abject desperate terror talking, but when he first said it Brian had been stunned that the old bastard still had the power to hurt him. After years of Brian self-medicating it turned out that all of it had been a waste. He’d still loved him, and still wanted his approval. Finally Jack said, “It wasn’t all bad. You’re mother and me; the family.”

The unspoken ‘was it?’ sat between them like a lead weight. Brian asked, “What would you have done, if you hadn’t gotten married? I know you always said you wish you hadn’t but you never said what it kept you from doing, did you want to be an actor; drive race cars, join the circus, hitchhike across the country? What was the dream it stopped?”

Jack started a long rambling drunken description of the perfect life without a wife and kids. Basically, as well as Brian could interpret it, he wanted to stay twenty five for the rest of his life, drink and screw. Brian could relate to that, it had been his life until he realized wanting to be young forever didn’t keep you young forever.

When his dad wound down Brian asked, “so if you woke up tomorrow and you were suddenly back in time, in your own body of that time, the day before you got mom pregnant with Claire. Would you stay here in Pittsburgh or hit the road and use your knowledge of who wins all the World Series to gamble your way to success?”

“If I did that you’d never be born. It would be like I killed you,” Jack said.

Brian said, “If you were back in time and you married mom, you still couldn’t be sure the baby born would be Claire or that even if you had a kid at the same time that you had me it would be me, a day, an hour difference and you get a whole new and different kid.”

“What makes you think of this crap?” Jack asked looking confused and angry.

Brian said, “My best friend’s a comic book geek, I’ve been tainted for life.”

+

Justin was grateful for the new security system later that night. If he hadn’t glanced at the monitor he might have missed Brian slumped outside on the sidewalk. He went down and half carried Brian back up to the loft, got him undressed and forced him to drink some water. This was not happy drunk Brian; this was morose sad drunk Brian. Brian crying always freaked Justin the hell out. Brian was the strongest man he’d ever known and Justin knew crying always made Brian mad at himself. So once Justin manhandled him into bed, he wrapped himself as tightly as he could around Brian and just held on.

April started in a whirlwind, even more so than March and Justin had decided they would have to give Atlanta a pass; which was sad, because Brian had been looking forward to ‘Hotlanta’ and a club scene filled with gorgeous men with southern drawls. Sometimes when Brian said things like that Emmett would give him a look that would say, ‘I’m a gorgeous man with a southern drawl and you never looked at me twice’ but usually he’d just laugh and agree. And now a second Honeycutt was visiting with a stronger accent, not that he was frequenting the gay haunts but HD had him working on his crew since he’d been scheduled for a second interview.

They never did get a story as to where Lindsay had been when she was hadn’t come back that day. Brian didn’t want to ask if her phone had died or if she lost or forgot it. Normally he would have but both of them were treating the lesbians like volatile explosive chemicals. One was recently postpartum and the other was pregnant; they were just men and likely to make things worse. Justin did find a moment without Mel or Brian around to ask if Lindsay knew what was up with ‘Time Magazine’. Lindsay considered it a coup and wasn’t he impressed she’d set up an interview with such a major publication. Justin felt his smile freeze and agreed but suggested she let him know so he’d be prepared for the photo shoot in the future. He also asked just when the interview was because as far as he could tell they just took photos.

Lindsay was going to check and get back to him. She thought the article had to do with talent in the new millennium and said that she’d given them some background on him. Justin refrained from pointing out that Lindsay didn’t really know any background on him and asked for the contact information so he could have his publicist call them.

“You have a publicist?” Lindsay said.

Justin said, “Brian Kinney, perhaps you’ve heard of him? He’ll make sure no one, like my parents or school, is slandered in the article.”

“I would never. Justin, I just made a great contact and felt you’d be perfect for a young talent showcase,” Lindsay said.

Justin said, “Of course, I know you wouldn’t but Brian oversees all risk management in both companies.”

“Both companies?” she asked.

Justin said, “Taylor Art and TK Venture Capital, and now Kinnetik so I guess its three. I’m sure it will be fine Lindsay, its Time not the National Enquirer but I was emancipated at seventeen for business purposes, at least that’s the public story. I don’t want to burn the bridge with my parents by painting them as homophobes who threw their kid out onto the mean streets of the city. I had a three bedroom house of my own at the time.”

Which was jumping the gun but Stella had passed by then and the house had been his, just held in trust until his eighteenth and he’d been unaware of it. If Lindsay told some sob story he didn’t want his dad’s business to suffer, since he was still supporting his mom and sister, or to be painted as some pathetic little fag in a national news magazine. So he got the contact information and put Brian on spin control and never even spoke to anyone at ‘Time’.

+

Running Taylor Art was easy. He painted, paid Lindsay to be his grownup mouthpiece, and say no to everyone. The History Center just kept making deposits to his account. He liked it that way. He could have probably negotiated a better deal on the new show but if he hired a shark to put his art career on the fast track he’d never have anytime to himself. Chris DeLuca used the previous contract as a template and they set it up the same way. Justin made sure all personal appearances at openings were optional, except in Pittsburgh, using college as an excuse.

TKVC was really Ted and Brian’s baby. Justin just talked to people. If he met someone who had an idea he would get their email and send them a proposal package. If they took the time to fill in an application and put together some form of business plan – and the package had step-by-step instructions in how to do so – Brian would give it his attention; and occasionally laugh out loud. Regardless, if they were earnest and local he’d have Ted crunch the numbers to try and seed some money in to give them a shot, of course sometimes he’d precede the request to Ted by ‘are we looking for a good loss this quarter’,

No it was Kinnetik that Justin wanted to beat to death with a stick. Not because it was losing money but because any account Brian went after he seemed to get. They needed Cynthia now for her superpower of making Brian listen to her. Brian didn’t want to bring her over until the new offices were set up. So now Justin was pulling off his uniform tie and doing up a silk Armani blue hound’s-tooth, he’d kicked off his pants and pulled up on his light grey suit like a quick change artist. He changed in his studio since it was close to school. He barely made it to the William Penn on time for his interview; an interview in which he was the interviewer. He should have set it at one of the universities since they were closer but was trying to not give the impression he was a student. Brian may have thought of a good well-fit suit as being a suit of armor, but Justin still thought he looked like a kid. Tomorrow he was coming straight here and changing in the bathroom, and the next day. He had three interviews this week all at four, any ones after that were getting scheduled in the evening.

The concierge had someone show him to the Carnegie II conference room next to the business center on the conference level and told him that his four o’clock had been waiting off the lobby since a quarter after three. The room was large for just the two of them but had been set up appropriately with comfortable wingback chairs and a conference table. The staff member informed Justin that Melissa had declined coffee when they offered it. Justin didn’t, and there was a coffee service for four and pitchers of ice water with a plate of lemon slices on the sideboard. The mugs had the hotel logo and the water glasses were real glass and not paper or plastic. The room had a table for eight with good light and space it was to Justin’s eye, very country clubish, but then he was used to the old Kinnetik redesigned bathhouse look. While something like this might look good in their new headquarters, he hoped they went with something more Brian’s style.

A hotel staff member escorted Melissa Eberman into the room. Justin stood, shook her hand and asked her to have a seat. He offered coffee or water and she declined. They had used an employment service but were offered so many candidates for the position that Brian had weeded them out on paper, picking the three most likely and had Justin taking interviews all week with an eye on hiring someone by Monday. Brian was too busy actually working to waste a day doing it, and well Brian terrified people.

Justin may not have ever hired someone before but he knew how to use a computer. He’d done some web searches on all three candidates Brian had picked from the dozen or so the service had recommended. Brian felt that Melissa was the most likely. She had a minor in art and was a recent graduate of PITTs business school. Justin didn’t want to waste time asking her what kind of tree she would be so he got right into her business experience; which was none. He asked what she’d done in college and high school, if she’d worked or volunteers or held offices in any social groups. He found himself mentally comparing her to Daphne and finding she came up short in all departments. By fifteen minutes into the interview he was convinced she was a selfish cunt and marveled that she’d made it this far in life even if her dad was a lawyer. How did he know her dad was a lawyer; she told him. Twice.

Justin looked down at the notes he’d made on her resume. He had it in pad-folio he’d picked up at an office supply store, because a sketch pad would send the wrong message. He could close the cover on it and keep it tilted away while he wrote, so it served its purpose. His notes said nouveau riche, lazy, makes too many excuses. It seemed to Justin; Melissa had used having to keep her grades up as an excuse to do as little as possible in school. She had been in a sorority but not held an office, she hadn’t been in any clubs except K'hillah and wasn’t in Phi Beta Kappa, Sigma Beta Delta or any honor societies he was inclined to think all her devotion to school hadn’t paid off in her grades. She hadn’t done any workstudy and her internship in her senior year had been with a law firm. He smelled daddy’s influence there.

“I see you did your internship in law, what makes you interested in advertising?” Justin asked.

Melissa said, “I think they’re very similar. In law you tried to persuade the judge and jury and in advertising you persuade the public.”

He waited a beat to see if there was any more, like for instance why she was interested in advertising. At this point he’d settle for a school girl crush on Darrin Stevens. None seemed forthcoming.

“Did you have any questions of your own, Miss. Eberman,” Justin asked, hoping she’d ask intelligent ones and redeem herself.

She smiled and said, “How old are you, Justin?”

“About Kinnetik or the position you’re interviewing for, Miss. Eberman,” Justin clarified and manfully didn’t roll his eyes or even scribble ‘what a cunt’ on her resume.

She said, “It’s just, you don’t seem old enough to be hiring someone.”

“Is this your first interview, ever?” Justin asked.

Melissa looked offended and said, “No, of course not.”

“Yet you’re still looking for a job, you’ve even gone to a service to help you,” Justin said. “Maybe the reason you haven’t been hired is you don’t seem to realize what an interview is for. You look good on paper Melissa, but in person you come off as, well, not Kinnetik material. Before extending an offer for employment companies want to know who you are. They might go as far as to stage a meeting in the waiting area with someone you think is another candidate just to see how you react when not on your best behavior. The head of the company may sit as the reception desk to see if you’ve done research. Kinnetik needs bright, personable people, who can think on their feet, adapt to change and do it all without grossly offending our clients. We are the fastest growing ad agency in the city with a limitless future. You can’t walk into a business meeting with the head of a client company and imply the owner is too old, or too young to be running the company.”

She said, “So this is a real interview?”

“It was, I really need to hire people, but if that’s the only questions you have the interview is over,” Justin said.

Melissa asked, “What would have made me a better candidate?” Justin wondered if she was just trying to salvage the interview or get him to point out an inappropriate reason for not hiring her.

“Experience. Life experience is not job experience. Give hard numbers, if you worked on a fundraiser or service project with your sorority. If you organized a welcome reception with K'hillah give the number of people in attendance and methods used to motivate people. Employers don’t want to hear that you had your own study carrel at the library, they want to know in addition to keeping up your grades how you networked, what you contributed to the campus and community over and above the minimum expectation. If being a student were your job, they are looking to see how you added value to that and went beyond just what you had to do to stay in school,” Justin said.

Justin wished he’d added don’t fucking whine to his spiel but was trying to be professional. Melissa spent another ten minutes explaining that college was hard. The thing that most worried Justin was she might be the best candidate. Of the ones recommended by the service, they were all young, they were all inexperienced. Except the one tomorrow who was over fifty, and reading between the lines might have a drinking problem. Maybe if they hired both Melissa and the old guy he could train her to be less of a cunt and she could, well she’d probably drive him to drink but he’d wait until he interviewed all three candidates.

Justin thanked her and told her they would be in touch. It was too late to call the employment service and bitch them out so he headed home. He bitched at Brian all though dinner and begged for Cynthia to come and fix things. Brian pointed out that Justin didn’t officially know Cynthia yet and that she would think he was crazy if he threw his arms around her and begged her to save him from the burden of recruitment.

Justin thoroughly intended to keep up his rant about young people and their lack of drive and civic involvement. He was also wondering if he could talk Brian into hiring Daphne for the summer. But those plans all went out the window when immediately after dinner an extremely horny Brian, who proceeded to remind him of a date they had with a camera now that he was eighteen.

Tuesday afternoon his meeting was with Ron McDonald. Seriously and he’d thought Niles parents were trying to kill their kid. Ronald McDonald, no relation, didn’t have red hair, or at least he looked like he hadn’t had red hair when he had hair. He was a fairly fit fiftyish man, built along the lines of David. At least he wasn’t fighting his baldness with a bad comb over. He’d shaved whatever was left and was working the Jason Statham look without the sexy accent. He did look like he could take Justin apart with his bare hands and not break a sweat. Justin’s notes on him read ‘bitter shark’ he kind of reminded Justin of Brian, if he’d never had Gus or anyone in his life that loved him. Ron pretty much took control of the interview and they were there long after the hour Justin had allotted. Justin didn’t mind at all. He was sure Brian and Ron would butt heads over everything and probably drive each other crazy. But Ron seemed hungry and if he tried to take the bulk of the sales it would be fewer burdens on Brian.

Ian Chadwick was Justin’s victim on Wednesday. Ian looked like he was about to faint and even Justin being eighteen didn’t appear to put him at ease. On paper Ian was great and Justin could see why Brian picked him. But this kid wouldn’t make it through Hurricane Kinney shouting at him to stop being an idiot without wetting himself.

“I notice you seem a bit nervous,” Justin said. “How would you cope with nerves when handling a presentation for a client?”

Ian said nothing for a moment and then said, “Well, I’d probably take a Xanax.”

“Do you find that helps with interviews as well?” Justin asked.

Ian said, “I don’t take them for interviews, I don’t want to look stoned.”

“Good call,” Justin said.

The ended up hiring Ron and Ian. Brian had a deep respect for chemical enhancements and figured that Ian would either stroke out or man up. Justin warned Brian that he and Ron would clash but Brian figured there was a story there and it made him curious. So they had Shelley, the art twins, Brian and the two new guys, a receptionist from a temp agency and three interns from CMU who were currently doing their own and the administrative work. Justin figured it was just a matter of weeks before Brian broke down and begged Cynthia to come save him, or rather save the staff before he killed them all. Brian actually had Cynthia on the payroll and she was keeping him up to date on the inside happenings as Vanguard, which was a tad illegal. But according to her Gardner Vance was scrambling to replace Brian and not having much luck. He’d apparently banked on Brian working to keep his job and had let go most of the sales department given Brian was responsible for the bulk of the work. Kip was back working for him a week after Brian left. News that had Brian cackling.

+

Emmett got off the bus on Grant Street and started walking back toward Liberty. It was easier taking the port authority than driving and finding a parking place. He headed toward the Greyhound station. As he entered the terminal he checked the computer screens on which buses were leaving and arriving.

“Emmett?” Jud said apparently already having arrived.

Emmett turned and smiled, “look at you, here in the city.”

“We do live near Jackson, Em. I’m not a complete redneck,” Jud said.

He looked like hell. But given he’d grabbed a bus in Jackson and spent two days getting to Pittsburgh Emmett couldn’t blame him. If it had been him he would have wanted to sleep for a week. As he recalled he nearly had when he’d come that same way. But first the poor boy needed to have a shower and get some food.

They walked out of the terminal and Emmett pointed out how Grant merged into Liberty just over there. Jud’s interview was on Grant Street in USX Tower, which could pretty much be seen from everywhere. His interview was the next day so once they got on a city bus Emmett handed Jud the bus schedule and a book of passes. He pointed out the stop and said given the huge triangular tower Jud couldn’t miss it.

“You could rent a car, but parking is a nightmare, you either end up so far out of the downtown area you have to bus back in or you pay more than the cost of renting the car to park it, that’s why I didn’t drive today,” Emmett said. They got off the bus a few minutes later on Butler Street and walked the few blocks to the building.

As they entered the loft the smell of jerked pork bubbling away in the crock pot permeated everything. Emmett showed Jud to the guest room, he’d even bought towels for the bathroom in anticipation of his brother’s visit. While Jud showered Emmett tossed some dressing on the bag of broccoli slaw. Justin had recommended it and it was fast easy veg for a balanced meal. He’d left the oven to heat while he rode down to pick up Jud so just popped in a tray of frozen sweet potato fries. Jud was still showering when HD came in, kissed him and went to shower and change.

 Later Jud came out after he showered, dripping water from his hair. Emmett asked, “What time is your interview tomorrow?”

“One,” He answered peering around the loft like it might have strange gay things ready to ambush him.

Emmett lifted the lid on the crockpot and turned it off. He said, “There’s a barber here, just down Butler a block or two, you may want to walk over in the morning.”

“I don’t know,” Jud said.

Emmett started to slice rolls for sandwiches and said, “Not a stylist you ass, your kind of old man barber. He’ll make you look boringly straight and suitable for an interview. You could get a shave too.”

“Sometimes you’re so much like Mama,” Jud said.

HD stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel and acers of bare skin. The screens were pushed back and the bedroom open to the whole loft. As a man who had lived from a clean clothesbasket to a dirty clothesbasket for years, living with Emmett involved a lot of standing around naked pondering where his clothes were now that Emmett insisted on hiding them in drawers and such. So before the towel could hit the floor Emmett called, “Babe, company.”

HD looked over, nodded at Jud and pulled the screens closed. Emmett pulled out the fries and used tongs to turn them so they crisped up on both sides before putting them back to finish baking. He pulled out his condiments; small resealable containers with pickles, sweet and relish, Vidalia onion to go with the spicy pork and barbeque sauce for the fries. He then set the table with plates and cutlery.

“What do you want to drink with this?” Emmett asked, “We have Coke, lemonade, water and beer.”

“What kind of beer?” Jud asked.

Emmett opened the fridge and said, “Dundee's Honey Brown Lager? Don’t ask me when I drink its Cosmos.” In answer to Jud’s nod Emmett got out two and opened them. HD came out in clean jean and a tee shirt. He had his work clothes balled up and snagged one of the open bottles on his way to the laundry area behind the kitchen, offering another kiss in return for the beer.

Emmett put the pork in a serving bowl and the sliced buns on a platter, the fries when in a basket. It didn’t seem like much of a meal but Jud looked tired enough to fall asleep the table. He even declined a slice of apple pie. They kept the talk light, mostly about the job Jud was interviewing for the next day. He would be doing site surveys for a local energy company. Emmett couldn’t figure out why they would do that in Pennsylvania, offshore was where most of the oil was, or at least that’s what Emmett always thought. HD said he had a uncle or cousin or something up around Erie that had a well or a pump of some kind in his back yard, well back acreage and had for a couple decades.

Jud turned in almost right after dinner and Emmett hoped he didn’t look as bad for his interview because he really looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. Given he often worked weekends and HD worked during the week they had taken to going out for at least an hour or so on weeknights. Not always Babylon sometimes they hit dance clubs that weren’t as crowded and even once when to see a friend of HD’s band play at a fire hall, which involved line dancing and being ogled by straight girls. Tonight they just hit Woody’s, both Teddy and Michael were there and it was nice to catch up. Apparently Dave had stayed home that evening to chat online with his son. Tonight was to be a hands-on lesson of how to tie a tie. Michael had even been introduced online and seemed to think the kid was really cool. They had similar taste in comic books and Hank, Dave’s kid, was trying to talk his mom into letting him attend a convention. Apparently, there was a visit planned in the near future. Michael seemed surprised that Brian didn’t show but Ted said he was pretty busy with the new agency.

+

Before Justin knew it, it was Thursday the twelfth, the day before their big fundraiser, and an in-service day at school so he headed to the studio early hoping to finish up on his current project. Brian had Gus for the day so that Kal could go to classes as Lindsay was out of town so he had only ducked in the office briefly although how he expected his staff to retain the fear of Kinney when he was carrying his son around like a football was beyond Justin.

Brian texted Justin to meet him at the diner to grab some lunch with Michael and Dave. They were to meet Dave’s son who was visiting for a few days. Justin was surprised to see his friends at the diner but figured Hunter’s presence explained it and stopped to get the dirt while Brian joined the others.

It turned out that Hunter was at the diner because Vic had a doctor’s appointment and Debbie didn’t want him home alone with the girls. So instead of hanging out in the confines of his bedroom with Monica and Brittney killing zombies or whatever, the teens were upsetting fags in their natural habitat. The girls, plus Hunter and Dave’s kid Hank, were in the large corner booth when Justin stopped to see what havoc they were creating.

+

When Brian came in with Gus, Debbie called Hunter to come get Brian a high chair from the back.

“So Dave, how’s the visit going,” Brian asked after he’d greeted Michael. He slid on to the bench seat across from them.

David smiled and said, “We spent all morning on the living room floor reading comics.”

“If you didn’t change a diaper or get barfed on, you’re ahead of me,” Brian said. When Hunter brought the wooden highchair Brian flipped it to situated Gus’ car seat on the wider base. Brian nodded toward Hank and said, “Looks like he has a fan club already.”

Justin was looking over Tracy’s shoulder from the booth behind her as she was gesturing to a something on paper. David said, “They’re a force of nature. I would have thought he was too young for them to pay any attention to.”

“They’ll treat him like a pet the way they do Hunter, of course if he pays attention he’ll get insight into how predatory females are, should help when he gets to dating age,” Brian said.

David said, “you not one of those who believe assertive females emasculate young men and are responsible for the increasing numbers of homosexuals are you?”

“No I blame ‘Teletubbies’,” Brian said.

+

Justin joined them and Brian slid out so he could sit on the inside and Brian would be next to Gus. Michael was prattling on about Hank like a proud parent and Dave just watched him with a dopy grin. Justin manfully kept from rolling his eyes. Hank had been there two days and Michael was now giving parenting tips to Brian.

Justin asked Dave if the girls had strong armed him into buying tickets to the fundraiser yet. And as Dave was pointing out it might be a bit too risqué for a ten year old Hank bolted over asking if he could go with Hunter and the girls. Brian snickered into his coffee and Justin figured now Michael and David would have to go or seem like the bad guys. Hunter was going, and had been drafted to help clean up after. Debbie had thought he was a bit too young but Vic had pointed out it was mostly expected to be a high school crowd, despite the posters up in the diner and up and down Liberty Avenue. Justin was just hoping they sold enough tickets to break even.

Later, Brian was trying to pretend he wasn’t a doting, well not spouse but sperm donor seemed too impersonal. They’d been down at the Waterfront picking up some art supplies and wandering around the shops and Brian had asked him what he wanted to do for dinner. They picked something up at ‘Mitchell’s Fish Market’ and took it to Mel and Kal when they dropped Gus off. With Lindsay away and Mel working they were probably living on stuff that wasn’t good for a pregnant woman. So they ordered three quarts of lobster bisque and seabass; scallops; crabs legs and salmon after calling and saying they were coming over with dinner. Brian, of course, said taking Gus on Kal’s school day had been his contribution to being an attentive future dad of Mel’s zygote or whatever it was right now. Justin knew Brian was just content to let him look like the fussy one. Brian was concerned with Mel being alone and Lindsay’s sudden trip to New York for the same reasons Justin was.

Gus was gurgling away when Brian unsnapped the car seat from its base and Justin grabbed the bags of food from the back. They knocked but the front door was unlocked and they let themselves in.

Mel was standing by the dining room table and placed her satchel on it. “Thanks for taking him, I really want to save my time off for when the baby comes,” she said. She was still dressed from work and had been sorting through the mail when they entered.

Justin set the bags down on a couple of the dining room chairs and started to unload them and said, “We had fun; he’s never any trouble. I can cut if you need me to, while Lindz is out of town. I’ve already been accepted to college; sometimes it just feels like I’m doing time. I can’t wait for grad.”

“Justin, where is Lindsay, her phone keeps rolling to voice mail and I want to try having the hotel ring her room,” Mel asked.

Justin stopped unloading the bag and looked at Mel and said, “What do you mean?”

“Where is Lindsay staying in New York?” Mel asked.

Justin looked over at Brian and then back at Mel and said, “Why would I know?”

“She said she was there to meet a gallery owner to show some of your work,” Mel said.

Justin said, “She didn’t tell me she was. What work is she planning to show?”

Okay, he thought, so much for staying out of it. And if Lindsay was using him as a cover or an excuse she should have checked with him or lied to him so he could feed Mel whatever line she’d come up with. So looking at Mel’s confused expression, he said, “The Burlesque Tribute is still booked by the Centre and the Music one won’t open until the end of June. Lindsay hasn’t really been involved with this exhibit. Most of my work, outside those two shows, has been gifts for friends or for Kinnetik. Mel, Lindsay’s never even been to my studio. I really haven’t been pushing for gallery shows. I don’t want to while I’m in college. I’ll still produce but I want targeted releases, I don’t want to flood the market with originals. Lithographs are where the money is until we can get the price point of my originals up.”

Brian sat Gus’ carrier down on one of the chairs and offered, “She told me she was going there to make contacts, I just assumed it was for some of her other clients.”

“She has three clients beside Justin, none of them need her to be in New York, nor do they make the kind of money for her to pay for a trip to New York,” Mel said. “Who the hell is paying for this trip because I know she hasn’t charged any of our accounts.”

“Maybe,” Justin, hoping to diffuse a blow up, said, “she has a new client?”

Mel sat down abruptly on the remaining chair and put her hand on her stomach. It was far too soon for any bump to show. They hadn’t officially told anyone outside the four of them, and well Kal. But maybe it was some motherly instinct. Mel said, “I’m such a fool.”

“It might not be what you think,” Justin said. Brian however was rolling his lips in that special very angry way and Justin was just glad he wasn’t yelling ‘now, she has to do this now’ at the top of his lungs in true Kinney/Rage fashion.

Mel spat, “And yet you know exactly what it is I think, because you’re thinking the same thing too.”

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Fortunately Kal wasn’t there; they left his dinner in the fridge and offered to keep Gus overnight. Brian would drop him off in the morning. Mel planned call the other artists Lindsay was representing to find out if she was in New York for them.

Justin offered to look up Dr. Beckett’s contact information for her. Mel asked, “Who?”

“I introduced them at the Gala, he works at CMU. I remember he wanted her to meet one of his students who he felt was ready for representation; he might tell you if she has any new clients better than me,” he said.

When they got home Brian tried to call Lindsay thinking maybe she would pick up for him but it rolled to voice mail. He angrily tossed his cell on his desk and said, “You know people having affairs should realize that the whole not answering thing sounds the same if you’re lying dead in a ditch. “

“She’s probably not dead in a ditch,” Justin said. “Think we should call Sam Auerbach’s agent and see where he is this week?”

“She’s probably off with that Beckett guy or some other asexual breeder her father’s age,” Brian said, “people who cheat should be better at it. When she does this shit it’s like she wants to get caught.”

Justin shook his head and said, “She’s never cheated before, yet. She can’t learn from mistakes she hasn’t made.”

“Do you think she was seeing him or her, it could be a her, while Mel was talking babies and while she was going in to the clinic with her, because the was only last month,” Brian asked.

Justin shrugged and said, “Don’t try and figure it out. We can’t. Our solution was to just tell each other when we had sex, it’s not like we didn’t or at least I didn’t fail every time we tried to set a hard and fast rule as to what our relationship is.”

“You didn’t fail. We wouldn’t be still together if you failed. You fail when you stop trying. We learned valuable lessons regarding letting people who are not you or me set expectations on how you and I; how we interact. We’ve always been fine until someone else would start pushing for how we should be,” Brian said.

Friday at school Justin had expected to be distracted by the fundraiser that night. However the girls yelled at him many times because he was too busy wondering what was up with Lindsay to pay attention to either classes or the fundraiser. He’d called Brian in his morning study hall to see how Mel had seemed when he dropped Gus off, but Mel had left for work already and he’d left Gus with Kal. Justin had emailed Mel all the contact information he had for Beckett the night before, including his university email address.

+

Emmett heard the door open and looked at the clock on his desk. It was set in a miniature Eiffel Tower and never failed to make him smile. Someday he’d get to Paris too. The whole loft had smelled heavenly for hours now and he’d popped baking potatoes into the oven and they should be done. He’d just steam some vegetables to go with and dinner would be on the table in a jif. He heard the screen in the next room over slide open and closed before the shower in the guest bath started.

This side of the loft had the second full bath and it could either be a second master or as it was now divided into two rooms. This one he used as his office to run his events planning business and the guest room Jud was staying in. Emmett had spent most of today going over details for a wedding he had tomorrow. He had finished all the work on the fundraiser all he’d really done was find a venue and negotiate a discount for the non-profit, but they had insisted on paying him so he’d catered their assembling prop kits party. In his head, privileged young people - and after driving into the gated community and seeing Tracy’s house it was obvious that Justin and his friends came from a world he’d only seen in movies – flaunted money with cars and trips and parties. But these kids had founded a charity, gotten a boy off the street and were raising money to help more of the working boys who were really boys and not old enough to be out on their own.

Their party consisted of folding sheets of newspapers, not purchased but picked up from the Tribune Review recycle center. Twisting, rice, and confetti into small packets using plastic wrap and toasting old bread from the ‘Schwebel’s Outlet’ in McKeesport and dividing them into plastic bags from of all places ‘Radio Shack’. The store manager at one of the malls had donated five hundred and called a couple other malls for them and before you knew it they had twenty five hundred bags. Their bank, when they made arrangements for the cash to be deposited at the branch on campus, so they wouldn’t have to drive it to the branch they opened the account at had donated small keychain flash lights with the bank logo on it, only a thousand but the bank’s competitors had kicked in enough that they had three thousand flash lights. They had gone to hospitals for gloves, a casino in West Virginia for used playing cards and were leaving out the water pistols because they didn’t want to damage the theater. As far as he knew the only thing they’d paid for had been the party hats and noisemakers, and brooms to clean it all up with.

Emmett finished tiding his desk and put away what he’d been working on and went out to steam the vegetables and set the table. Jud had been there almost two weeks and it was weird, having his brother stay with him. Probably not as weird as it was for Jud because the screens may give the illusion of privacy but didn’t shelter the little lamb from the sounds of HD showing Emmett a very good time.

He removed the brisket from the Dutch oven on the stove top to set to rest and put on a pan with an inch of water to heat before loading the insert with a vegetable medley. This kitchen was a pleasure to work in, not only could he spread out but like Brian’s he could see the whole loft from it and converse with guests no matter where they were if the screens were open. The one at his old place was stuck in a corner; you had to leave the party to take care of things. Once the water boiled he lowered the insert into the pan and put on a lid.

Emmett loved his dining room table and went about setting it for four. Unlike the sleek modern adjustable one Justin had this one was solid wood, a big oak circle with a ten foot diameter. They got it for a steal at an estate sale, along with a matching buffet and china cabinet. Gorgeous pieces that just needed to be cleaned up stripped to the original wood and refinished, which hadn’t sold due to their size and weight. No one had room for pieces like this and even HD and he together had had a time loading them into the truck. As it was the estate agent had been planning to donate them since they had to get all the furniture out of the house to sell it. It had come with twelve chairs, only six of which they had sitting around it the rest were on a chair rail HD had put up. Emmett had upholstered the chair seats in rich, thick pink and orange damask that brightened up the natural wood finish.  All the needed was a big crystal chandler to finish it off. HD said he’d keep an eye out but promised to make one if Emmett couldn’t find what he wanted.

While the dining area was perfect the living area was a work in progress. A work they hadn’t had time to start, with each of them running their own business and Brian monopolizing HD’s time. It had Emmett’s old couch, an upholstered bench that was to go at base of their bed to sit on while they put on shoes and such, his TV and its stand. Which hadn’t mattered until Jud stopped by for a visit; Jud tended to tense up if one of them sat next to him, even after HD had looked at Jud and said ‘in your dreams Honeycutt’.

Speak of the devil, Jud emerged from the guest room, hair damp but at least not dripping, in clean jeans, a sweatshirt that said ‘Mississippi Oil and Gas Board’ and bare feet. He really hadn’t brought much with him besides his interview suit. He’d intended to head back to Hazlehurst but when they told him at his first interview that they wanted to bring him back for testing he had stayed since it made no sense to go all the way home and come back. HD had hauled Jud with him to ‘Tractor Supply’ for some jeans and tee shirts before putting him on his crew as a general helper. It paid well enough to keep him in spending money to buy essential. Now he had a second interview with some higher ups scheduled next week.

“Company coming?” Jud asked, seeing the extra place setting.

Emmett pulled down some serving dishes and said, “Just Shelley from downstairs. September roped her into clean up duty tonight like the rest of us. Sure you don’t want to come?”

“To see a movie about an alien transvestite?” Jud asked as if he were crazy.

There was a knock at the door and Emmett said, “Get that will you?”

HD emerged from their room sliding the screen all the way open as he did. When Jud wasn’t with them they kept the screens open almost all the time, unless one was sleeping and the other was up doing something. He came into the kitchen and asked, “What can I do?”

“Will you carve? It should be ready,” Emmett said, taking the veggies off the stove and putting them in a serving bowl before dressing them with a spice mix. He poured the juice from the brisket into a gravy boat and popped some rolls into the oven to bake now that the potatoes were out.

HD might not be much on cooking but the man could use a knife. His brother had dragged him to a knife skills class at the culinary institute as part of his get HD out of the damn house after Jake had died efforts. Emmett, while finding Marc’s visit exhausting, found himself more than a bit envious of the brothers’ relationship. Occasionally it was like watching a cat try to figure out a mirror but mostly they had a blind loyalty to each other that made him ache for that kind of closeness with his own family.

Shelley, after meeting and introducing herself to Jud, preceded him from the entrance way to the kitchen. She held out a bottle of wine and said, “Red with beef, right? I got to warn you though; my knowledge of wine is limited to don’t buy it in a box.”

“Thanks honey, I’m not exactly a connoisseur myself but I’m sure it’s fine. Baby, we have a corkscrew around here somewhere right?” Emmett asked.

They did, it was wildly complicated and looked expensive. Ted had given it to them as a housewarming gift when they moved in. Teddy was so thoughtful like that and Em made a mental note to have him round for a home cooked meal. HD opened the wine and poured for Emmett and Shelley. He got Jud and himself beer without even offering him wine and there was a brief opera of looks where Em raised an eye brow, HD shrugged and Jud toasted them with his longneck that apparently indicated Jud was okay with HD reading his mind in regard to wine with dinner.

HD had fashioned a lazy Susan for the center of their big table which made passing and condiments with only four people much easier. It was a casual meal, Emmett the only one not in jeans. Even Shelley was in a ‘Drexel Dragons’ sweatshirt. She kept the conversation light and happy. Emmett hoped all their neighbors ended up being like Shelley. After polite inquiries about Jud’s visit she bubbled happily away about her memories of attending ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ in college. She said she had a maid’s outfit and wig was going as Magenta and wanted to know who they were dressing as.

Emmett started detailing his Columbia outfit and Jud asked, “You’re dressing as a woman?”

“Last time he dressed as a woman he won five grand; and your brother has amazing legs so shut up,” HD said.

Jud didn’t of course, he said, “So who are you dressing up as?”

“Eddie, of course,” HD said as if talking to someone very slow.

Shelley didn’t look the least put out by Jud being an ass and said, “You should come. You can be Brad. Its only twenty bucks and no one should die a virgin.”

“What?” Jud said.

Shelley prattled on; blind to just how confused Jud was, “You just need slacks and a V-neck over a dress shirt. The jacket might be tough but just leave it off or I know a resale shop open until nine if you want to run out.”

Straight men were so weird, because after dinner Shelley went through Jud’s suitcase and dragged him out with her to ‘finish up’ his costume. Either he was in an off period with Patty Perkins or he was just being led around by his dick because as far as Emmett could tell Jud didn’t have a fun bone in his body.

HD and he did dishes, and chatted about progress on Brian’s reno. Ted was feeling HD out to take on a remodel of a property he was bidding on. It was in the strip but almost downtown and HD and Ted were arguing that it wasn’t big enough for all Ted wanted in it and he should look further down into Lawrenceville for bigger, cheaper properties. Ted however was insistent he needed the downtown address. HD then pushed for the derelicts around Allegheny Commons or near the Mexican War Streets, but Ted felt the neighborhood’s reputation would keep the clientele he had in mind away.

Emmett of course had to start getting ready long before HD. He could hear HD softy singing ‘Hot Patootie’ out in the open area as he was putting his work clothes into the washer, when Emmett went back to start on his makeup. Emmett had laid out his costume earlier: tap shoes, a hot pink sequined bow tie that snapped on in the back, he’d made himself; he’d bedazzled a top hat and a bolero jacket with gold studs. His shorts were pink PVC, because he already had them and the corset was black lace, one Godiva had given him when sorting through things because again it was already part of his wardrobe and it wasn’t like he was going to make this a regular thing. He heard Jud come back and they must have hit the ‘Red White and Blue’ on Ohio River Boulevard because it was the only one close enough to be back so fast.

HD came in and slicked back his shaggy blond hair into a ducktail, and pulled on a distressed leather jacket that judging by how rotten the leather seemed might be an authentic WWII pilot’s jacket, if you know pilots had come in HD’s size, Emmett suspected it was also a resale find. That with the work boots he’d left at the door would be the extent of his costume. HD stopped to watch, fascinated as Emmett applied false eyelashes and said, “I really like those shorts.”

“You do, huh?” Emmett said, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

HD nodded and said, “Looks like we’ll be traumatizing Jud again later,”

“Is he riding with us or Shelley?” Em asked.

HD said, “I’ll check.”

By the time Emmett finished dressing there was a knock on the door. Jud was distracted by the fact that unlike Magenta, Shelly had picked up a sexy maid costume. So while she’d paired it with a wild red wig and dark smoky eyes she hadn’t managed to convey any sense of menace. All eyes turned as Emmett’s tap shoes clicked on the floor and he said, “Eddie!”

Jud’s mouth dropped open and Shelley gushed, “Oh you look stunning, let me get some pictures.”

So HD came and posed with him and then HD took some shots of Shelley and Emmett and then Shelley dragged Jud into a shot with the two of them. Just before the flash Emmett said, “We’ll send this one to Mom,” resulting in a look on Jud’s face in that shot that Em resolved to send to Aunt Lula.

Since the four of them decided to go together they took Emmett’s van instead of HD’s truck. He’d only had it about a month; it was a 1995 Ford Econoline. HD said the engine was sound but the exterior had been flakey, most of the metallic white had peeled off so despite what a good sound business investment it had been for his company he almost wanted to cry at the thought of driving the ugly rusty bucket. However, like always, HD knew a guy who owned a body shop and Justin had designed a logo for ‘Aunty Em’s Events’ a rainbow bursting from tornado, and HD had the van stripped, sanded and painted a pale pink, with logo airbrushed on, the vivid colors of the rainbow wrapping around the sides. Jud of course looked like he thought riding in it would make him gay. But Shelley squealed and grabbed his arm and hauled him in saying “Next stop, Oz.”

+

Justin tugged at the gold lamé shorts he was wearing, because seriously what had he been thinking. He hadn’t, obviously, he’d let Daphne’s ‘you’d be perfect as Rocky’ go to his head. He’d dressed at the venue and stashed his street clothes back in an unused room they were using to store the prop kits and the cleaning supplies. He was fucking freezing. Sure the temperature would go up once all the people came – if people came. Sep, of all people, was dressed as Janet and how Tracy had gotten out of her house, with Frank Payne for a father, dressed as Frank was beyond him, unless she got dressed at Sep’s. Daphne was adorable as Columbia but had fallen on her ass twice because Daphne and tap shoes on the marble floors of the lobby were a bad mix. Monica and Brittney had both opted for Magenta but had chosen brunette Cleopatra wigs and had apparently been working up an eerie twin act. Paul had gone all out at Riff Raff and even had a hunch back, Niles as Brad pretty much looked like Niles as Niles with glasses and Mike was wearing old clothes suitable for cleaning up the theater after the show. Mike looked at Justin like he was crazy and asked, “Aren’t you cold?”

They had three cash boxes, and three tables stationed at either side of large entrance and one in the middle. Each was loaded down with bins of prop packets for audience participation. Although they had had some advanced sales it would all come down to how many people showed tonight. Debbie showed up dressed as Debbie but most people would think she was dressed for the show. Vic and Hunter had gone Mike’s route of just dressing for cleanup duty and were there early.

People were already trickling in and not just high school students. They had advertised in the school newspapers of Pitt and CMU since they were in walking distance and some large groups were showing up; many in costume but some just dressed in street clothes. Debbie had asked if she and Vic could help and they had them directing people in to the theater to sit, rather than wandering round getting into trouble with the memorial displays.

Daphne had left Justin handing out the prop kits and he sent Hunter for more as he was almost out, which he took as a good sign since he’d had two hundred in the bin he’d set up near the door. She was going back to check in and make sure the full shadow cast was there and ready. She told him to send Brian to take pictures when he got back from wherever he got off to. Justin handed a kit to another Rocky and blinked because it was HD’s brother. Standing next to Marc he felt like a skinny twelve year old but before he could curse fate he noticed Marc had come with a towering African American Frank in the blue dress and pearls but still sporting fish nets and four inch heels.

“Hey, Noxie, looking good,” HD called, he had Emmett slung across his shoulders as they walked in, Emmett already holding two prop bags was trying to keep from losing his hat.

Noxie’s voice was a deep baritone, he said, “Huxley Davis, it’s been awhile, Marc tells me you’re living in the city now.”

HD set Emmett down and Justin was frantically passing out kits to keep up with the influx of patrons. But he was trying to keep an ear open because if Noxie was straight he’d eat his prop kit. Brian strolled up behind him and started to help hand out the kits before saying, “I gave Tracy your socks.”

“They don’t really go with her costume,” Justin said.

Brian sighed, “I spent ten minutes listening to a teenaged girl lament her lack of junk. She’s stuffing her crotch for authenticity.”

“Sometimes I think she has Asperger's,” Justin said, looking around in time to see Tracy teeter out of the bathroom in platforms, and sure enough she now had junk. It kind of clashed with the boobs nearly spilling out of the corset but Paul didn’t seem to mind as they both worked the other bin handing out kits on the other side of the entrance.

Monica and Brittney worked one table of ticket sales and Mike and September another. Niles was with Mr. Omler at the center table; Hunter was handing out kits with them now that he’d refilled all the bins. Justin hadn’t got a head count but based on how they’d had to refill the bins of prop kits he was betting that they at least wouldn’t lose money on this venture.

Justin glanced back to see if he could spot HD and Emmett and their party but they were gone. Brian said, “Em’s saving seats.”

“Mom?” Justin said, and oh God, he looked around for his father and thankfully there was no sign.

Jennifer said, “Hi, sweetie. Aren’t you cold?” Brian, the bastard, snickered at that.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” He asked.

Jennifer waived to someone and Justin saw Judith standing over by the doors into the theater portion of the venue. She said, “Daphne invited me. I think it’s wonderful that you have a service project. Besides I haven’t seen ‘Rocky Horror’ since college, it’ll be fun.” She added to Brian, “Judith said you’ve become a good customer, what are you doing with so many buildings?”

“Mom,” Justin said.

Jennifer said, “You’re right, time and place. But we never see you. We really should do that dinner we talked about. I miss you baby.”

“Sounds great, maybe I’ll cook,” Justin said, Brian taking up the slack and handing out kits at a rapid pace.

Jennifer said, “Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Judith’s been talking to me about getting my license. She thinks I’d be good at it.”

“You would be,” Justin called as he watched her go join her friend.

Brian, being able to multitask as he handed out prop kits with both hands, said, “So guess the ‘rents are coming to dinner.”

“We talked about it over Christmas break, and if he comes to the loft we can avoid the whole not in my house crap,” Justin said. Justin then remembered to pass on Daphne’s request that Brian go photograph the cast.

Justin had started the night trying to keep a rough estimate of how many people were coming through the door but had lost track within the first fifteen minutes. The dorms for the University of Pittsburgh were literally right across the street. One of the early arrivals, a girl dressed as Columbia from Tri Sigma at PITT said there was a big party at the PiKA house after the show using ‘Rocky Horror’ as its theme. So most of the PITT Greeks were coming and most of both PITT and CMU theater departments were coming as well according to their shadow cast who had friends, family and faculty coming to see them perform. There were teens from all the surrounding schools and since they their posters, flyers and ads in the City Paper and the school papers had listed it as an ‘R’ rating they were going on the honor method and not checking IDs.

The show was to start at ten but the crowd was still lined up and it occurred to Justin, wildly as he didn’t think this would be a problem, that they were just taking money and not counting heads so they wouldn’t know if they sold more tickets than they had seats; or if the show could get shut down for doing so. The venue had charged for security and had their own people milling around as a crowd this size needed to be watched. They would lose a thousand dollar deposit if the damaged the venue so they had gladly forked out extra for more security on Emmett’s recommendation.

Daphne came back from backstage and Justin told her his concerns. She went off to see if the auditorium was full or too full. The crowd coming in was still bustling but not the deluge it had been fifteen minutes ago. They might have to delay the start of the show to get everyone seated.

The shadow cast actually did some improv and stalled the start of the movie while they worked up the audience. Niles offered to work the table during the movie in case they had stragglers. Since security hadn’t said the hall was overfilled they weren’t going to worry about it. Daphne along with Mike and Paul, had gone to drop the deposits in the night depository. She’d shown up with numbered plastic bags with security seals and a set of keys. As they had counted and bagged it, Justin was thankful that one of them has the foresight to wonder what they would do with all the cash. It had been almost thirty six thousand dollars when they counted it, filled out the deposit slips and bagged it back in the conference room they were using for storage of clothes and brooms. And money was still being taken in at the time they left. They resolved if they ever did something like this again to rent or buy a bill counter.

Justin delayed going to his seat, waiting with Niles until the three of them made it back safely. Despite having taken the deposit bags in a gym bag he was sure someone would hit them on the head as they crossed the street to the branch of the bank they had arranged to drop the cash at. He was pretty sure he or Daphne would need to go in on Monday s and fill out some forms to prove they weren’t drug dealers or terrorists.

They all, minus Niles and Mr. Omler, dashed to their seats during the ‘Dammit Janet’ number as Sep had roped off seats and set Emmett and HD to guarding them when they arrived. The girls had made sure they had several rows near and aisle up front so they could all get up for the Time Warp. Apparently Debbie remembered his mother from his birthday party because she and their broker were sitting with her and Vic. Justin realized she was two rows behind him just after he yelled to Brian, “I’m fucking freezing to death.”

 Brian the unfeeling bastard said, “Next time go as Riff Raff, he never freezes to death.”

“My mom is right behind us,” Justin said, hiding his face in his hands.

Brian said, “So no making out?”

“I never said that,” Justin said and kissed him.

+

Jud was such a dork, Emmett thought almost affectionately. Watching him try to dance the Time Warp with Shelley was kind of hilarious. Why did straight men seem unable to raise their arms above chest height? He got that they didn’t want to appear gay, but did they care that they appeared awkward, uncoordinated and kind of spastic when they tried to dance without actually moving?

It was chaos in the audience. There were easily over a thousand people and considering the halls capacity maybe closer to two thousand here and the aisles were packed. Most people just danced in front of their seats. The screen was tiny given the size of the hall but that actually worked to their favor. The emphasis was on the shadow cast. The sound system was perfect, although most of the movie couldn’t be heard over the crowd. The cast was mic’ed into the address system on a separate channel than the movie’s soundtrack. This let the movie’s sound play like background music but you could hear what the cast on stage was saying.

+

Thankfully Brian brought Justin his clothes, minus his socks while the crowd was dispersing. Tracy gave them back but Justin had just put them in his gym bag, because yeah. Which Mike seemed to find hilarious until Paul hit him. They only grabbed five dust pans for thirty brooms and Justin had no idea what they would do with them all afterwards, maybe drop them at Goodwill, but how do you mark something down that started at a dollar?

Brian had taken digital photos of the actors and was going to put together a publicity piece. Something glossy written as if it had been a real review of the show, detailing the venue, size of the crowd and how much money was made. Whether it ran in any newspaper, even the schools’, wasn’t as important as the kids having it to pad their portfolios. While it might just be one more line item it was a gig not put on by the school and the glossy write up should show it in its best light. He was sitting on stage with one of the cast members who had brought names, headshots and bios on each of them, but given his pictures had them in makeup and costume he wanted to make sure he had faces and to names correctly.

Somehow his mom got roped into staying and helping so they got to talking. She’d met Deb but they sure couldn’t have talked during the movie so Justin told her how the charity started and where their group hoped to take it once they got Hunter on his feet. He told her Tracy was going to CMU with him and Sep was up in the air, she’d already heard about Daphne and Johns Hopkins. Part of Justin’s mind was still on Mel and whatever was going on with Lindsay but it was nice to catch up with his mom. He invited her to come out with them all to eat afterward but Judith had driven and she said it was getting late for her.

After bagging enumerable pieces of toast, playing cards, confetti and rice, along with the plastic bags, flyers that had been in them crediting the donors and given information on their website and even many disposable keychain flashlights, they stuffed the dumpsters behind the venue. Given the size of their clean-up crew and that some of the security people pitched in as well, they were out before one and avoided having to pay extra. A brief detour with Brian to the bathroom and they were able to head out for food. They poured into the Squirrel Hill ‘Eat N Park’ just before the after bar crowd and took over a large section of tables.

Justin and Brian ended up in the largest booth with Emmett and his party of six. HD’s brother, like Justin had pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt over his tiny gold shorts but the large man in drag with him was still wearing the little blue dress. On closer examination the dress looked vintage and fit him really well. Emmett’s brother was agog; Justin and Brian occasionally elbowed each other, discretely at some of his reactions. Noxie, the large drag queen, was from Philly and Marc would occasionally take the train so they could meet in New York. They had met by chance when Marc was in high school and had struck up an odd friendship. They were currently road tripping to a drag competition in Vegas, while Marc was on a break from working on his thesis in theoretical mathematics.

Michael and Dave had gone home right after the show because it was late for Hank to be out but Deb and Vic were over with Hunter, Monica and Brittney in one booth and Niles was with Daphne, Sep, Mike, Paul and Tracy in another. Judging by some of the costumes on the other patrons they’d been to the show as well.

+

Earlier, Jud finished up at the urinal and stopped at the sinks. It was weird a show like this being in a war memorial. The corridors outside the auditorium and the conference room they where they’d stored the cleaning supplies and people’s street close had had display cases of uniforms from wars dating back to the War Between the States. There were maps from the French and Indian War, artwork showing red coats and natives scouting out the forts Pittsburgh had been back then. Yet the place was filled with people crossdressing and in their underwear. Back home there would have been church groups and veterans protesting and here you just rented it out and had crowds of hundreds show up.

Two of the kids who had been cleaning up came in and came straight to the sinks. One had newsprint all over his hands and the other was talking about some girl who had invited them to stop up at a party afterwards.

“Come on, man. You know Paul’s going to be panting after Tracy all night – college girls,” the tall brunet said. He sounded pretty much like every guy Jud had gone to high school with.

The shorter one, scrubbing his hands said, “I didn’t join to score chicks, Mike. And I get harassed enough in high school without adding drunk frat boys to the mix-”

The both stopped talking when Jud heard groan coming from back where the stalls were. All three of them listened and it occurred to Jud what they were hearing. He was about to yell back when the tall one whispered, “Taylor?”

The shorter one laughed and agreed with a nod and they both left, Jud hurriedly followed. Out in the corridor, Emmett was talking to one of the security people apparently arranging for all the brooms and dustpans to be donated to the venue for future clean ups, along with what was left of the giant box of trash bags. When he’d seen the roll of five hundred he thought it was ridiculous but they’d used more than half.

The little black girl who had dressed like his brother was now wearing jeans came up swinging her shoes and calling out to the people milling round, “Okay the halls clear and passed inspection. We do not lose our deposit for damages, but we have to be out of the building, by one or it’s another five hundred dollars. I’m heading to ‘Eat N Park’ who needs a ride?”

Everyone started talking, people were asking if they could go to a place called ‘Ritter’s’ or the Liberty Diner, but someone said they had too many people they needed somewhere close and bigger. Jud even thought he heard someone pleading for O-fries, whatever those were.

“Where’s Justin?” The little girl asked, “His mom’s leaving.”

Emmett finished up with the staff and asked, “Where’s Brian? That’ll be where he is.”

The two guys from the bathroom laughed and the short on said, “They’re indisposed.”

Emmett rolled his eyes and shot a pleading look at his boyfriend. Jud thought he would never get over the idea Emmett had a boyfriend. HD stuck his head in the bathroom and yelled, “You could get a really nice hotel suite for the five hundred dollars it’s going to cost if we don’t get out of here.”

Jud’s stay had certainly been eye opening. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he came up North. Burnett thought he was a damn fool, but that was nothing new. He’d said the same thing when he’d started driving to Jackson to take classes at community college. As far as Burnett was concerned once Jud had a job he should have got married and started having babies. While that would have made Patty happy it seemed stupid. He had no problem working a twelve hour shift at nineteen but couldn’t see doing that for the rest of his life. So he’d started looking into what you needed to do to move up, maybe get a job you didn’t break your back doing. Turned out after a couple years on the job the community college would test you and give you credit for what you learned on the job and if you took a couple classes on your own your employer would help you get a degree. It wasn’t fancy and he never thought of himself as a college boy but with his bosses recommendation he was at least qualified for the position with the development he was interviewing with. Sure it was far from home but it was more money than he’d ever make in Mississippi and if fracking did take off then he’d have been here from the beginning. If it didn’t he’d have experience to move wherever it did get the go ahead.

Shelley came around the corner talking to HD’s cousin. She was carrying her wig, hat and jacket. It wasn’t really a date, she’d paid her own way but it was nice she’d dragged him along. She asked, “Do they have ‘Eat N Park’ in Mississippi? They have the best strawberry pie.”

His mama would call her wild, just for having dinner at Emmett’s. But she didn’t seem that different than him. She talked about her parents while they’d be at the resale shop, how they acted like Pittsburgh was another state and not just an hour or so away. Burnett was the same way about Jackson. She’d gone to school in Philadelphia and said her mother expected her to be killed every day; she literally had to call home every night to let them know she was safe. Of course then she’d go back out with her friends. She’d moved home when she got the job at Ryder to save money but the long commute meant her social live had dried up. She couldn’t stay late to go out with her friends from work and by the time she got home it seemed like she was heading right back into town. She’d only had her place in Emmett’s building since the first of the month and said she pretty much only had her bedroom suite and hand me down furniture from her parents.

Jud had opted not to drive his truck up from Mississippi and saved money by taking the bus. But the two day trip had been grueling and he was thinking of flying into Jackson and taking the train to Hazlehurst when it was all done. He’d thought the trip would be a drain on his finances but when he’d said they wanted him to come back for testing and maybe another interview HD had asked what he planned to do with himself and then put him to work. He wasn’t making nearly what he made when out on the rigs but it wasn’t bad money and the guys at the site were around his age, he’d given up trying to spot which ones were like HD and Emmett.

Emmett was a surprise. All these years Burnett had worried Emmett was living hand to mouth somewhere, alone but for deviants who’d take advantage of his soft nature. Emmett took to city life the way Burnett took to small town living. He thrived here. He knew his way around, unsurprisingly and knew just about everyone.

Jud knew he hadn’t been real with it when he’d arrived. Fifty hours straight of riding and stopping was expected to kill some brain cells. But Em had scoped him up and had him home before he could blink. He’d been given a way to get around on his own, details on how to find his way to his interview and the same casual hospitality he’d get if he was staying with Aunt Lula.

Frankly the whole family would be impressed with Emmett’s place. And it was Emmett’s not just Emmett living with HD. You could tell by all the pink. HD didn’t seem to be the pink sort, although Emmet could have dressed him in it every day and he wouldn’t have caught on being color blind. Em ruled his kingdom from the kitchen, although his office was set up with fabric swatches and pictures of place settings and decorations pinned all over a board by the desk. The van was an experience and apparently his big brother was a business man, under the name ‘Aunty Em’, Burnett was going to have a stroke. But his place easily matched Burnett’s in square footage, if you unstacked his basement, first and second floors. And it wasn’t broken up with all the kids rooms. The screens took some getting used to, the idea that the walls of a room could be pushed back. Jud got the feeling that when he wasn’t there they were all pushed back and Em’s office let him see the whole place, just like his kitchen did.

Not that their father hadn’t worked but with seven kids, six living, there was never enough money growing up. College was for rich people and you just struggled to keep them all fed and clothed. Maybe that was why Jud had held off on marrying Patty. He didn’t want to live like that. As the youngest he’d seen how much everyone gave up and settled for. He wasn’t queer but just looking at Em’s place showed that not having a houseful of kids let you live better. Jud figured this time he and Patty were split for good. He just didn’t trust her not to get pregnant on purpose. She’d freaked at the idea of moving for work, leaving her church and her family and was pretty resentful that she’d waited all these years – six – since high school graduation and he still wasn’t ready to marry. If he got this job he’d give her a year to be married to someone else and squeezing out babies.

His next interview was Tuesday. He really couldn’t just hang around Pittsburgh while he waited to hear from them. He’d ask then about the time frame for their decision and let them know he had to head back home. He’d entertained himself on the long ride up on exactly what getting this job would entail. Mostly he’d be staying in motels and hotels around the state, there would be a secure company vehicle for his equipment so a lot of driving and road time. He figured he could rent a room in someone’s house since most of the time he’d be on the road. He’d checked the local apartment guides and rents were much more expensive than back home.

They all piled into Emmett’s pretty pink van, he couldn’t wait to tell Burnett about it, and drove a short way up through the urban campuses of PITT with its towering cathedral and past the Carnegie Music Hall he recognized from ‘Flash Dance’ to a parking lot in a busy commercial district. Once inside the restaurant, Shelley dragged him over to the display case of pies while they waited to be seated. HD’s brother had put on clothes, thank God, but the huge black guy with him was still in a dress, and didn’t seem at all uncomfortable about it. His broad gestures reminded Jud of Emmett and he sure could walk in those heels. Which probably wasn’t easy, half the time Jud figured Shelley was holding on to him to keep from falling.

A really young blond kid with a guy their age plastered all over him came in. He’d been one of the ones nearly naked and Jud was glad to see he had on jeans and a sweater. Emmett called over and Jud realized this was the Brian and Justin who’d been having sex or something like it in the bathroom. The man in the dress was introduced a second time since the theater had been loud and distracting. Jud didn’t know what kind of name Noxie was but everyone else seemed to take it in stride so he just smiled and nodded. Brian and Justin joined them at a big circler booth. Something told him that the burst of giggles from a nearby table meant that everyone knew why those two had been the last to arrive.

+

Deb had stopped by the table to talk. She asked Brian where the Lindsay and Melanie were and how come they hadn’t come. Brian gave her the official story of Lindsay being in New York on business and that Mel was home with Gus. After she left Justin heard Emmett’s brother ask Shelley which character Debbie was dressed as. When Deb and Vic left with Hunter, Mon and Brittney went to join the other booth. Daphne came to Justin’s table and squeezed in next to Brian. She said she was heading out and wanted to know if Justin wanted to come to the bank with her in the morning.

“Before noon? Are you on drugs?” Justin said.

Daphne said, “They’re only open until noon on Saturday and if we get it out of the way we don’t have to come in on Monday.”

“Daphne, they have limited services on Saturday, I don’t think they even open the night depository, after school on Monday is soon enough they won’t have it counted and deposited until then.”

Daphne asked, “How do you know this?”

“He doesn’t,” Brian said, “he just doesn’t want to get out of bed. He can come up with really impressive arguments to not wake up.”

Daphne left, giving Monica a ride, Sep said she’d take Brittney but didn’t look ready to leave. Emmett and HD were the next to leave with Judson and Shelley, Em had a wedding the next day. So Sep and Brit joined their table with Sep trying to talk Marc into taking her with them to Vegas.

“We should go to Vegas,” Brian said while this was going on.

Justin asked, “To visit Tony? Because it’ll be another three years before they let me gamble or drink or even into dance clubs.”

“I keep forgetting how young you are,” he said.

Justin leaned into his side and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment. Maybe New York again, hit a social, then the Copa and breakfast at Jason’s diner before sleeping the day away. We can shop for furniture for the new offices.”

Brian hummed appreciatively as if he didn’t know Justin used shopping for him the same way he used food for Justin.

+

Jud was off to bed and Emmett was glad he didn’t have to anything planned for work until the afternoon. He was doing a wedding; ceremony and reception was at Phipps Conservatory. The last planner had lost the venue which had been the bride’s country club, by failing to place a deposit to reserve the date. Emmett had been scrambling to save it when he remembered HD taking him there and assumed it would be booked, but a last minute cancelation had saved the day. It wasn’t a big wedding but had the potential to make his reputation since the family was well connected.

Jud would be heading home soon. Not before his interview Tuesday but probably shortly after. It was nice having him. Most of the time he was an easy guest, unlike Marc, Jud didn’t soak up all the attention in a room. Emmett adored HD’s brother and would never tell him but he was an exhausting house guest. Jud entertained himself, occasionally when he wasn’t working he walked around the neighborhood. He’d found a little bar by the park, and had been dragged into some pickup games at the playground by the patrons.

Emmett removed his makeup while HD moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer. HD had been putting in overtime when Emmett worked on weekends but they really needed to do something fun soon. There was still half of April and all of May left before Pride, then there would be the Art Festival in June and if they weren’t so busy now he would suggest HD show some of his stained glass. July would be the Regatta; then August had a wealth of county fairs and things. But right now he was pressed for an idea he thought there was some sort of art festival in Westmoreland County in May but he’d have to check with Maureen. HD liked seeing others crafts even if he had no patience for anything he called dust collectors. He really wanted to find something fun for them to do, they deserved it.

After Emmett had taken off his makeup and tap shoes he wandered into the kitchen to set up the coffee maker. He figured nine was early enough to set the timer for. He was spoiled. This machine had him expecting hot coffee as soon as his eyes opened. It was hard to believe he’d never had one like it. Brian had given it to them. It was probably crazy expensive. It even had a built in grinder if they wanted to put in fresh beans, but given the noise that had made the first time he’d tried it they opted to pre-grind the beans because that noise was worse than the alarm clock.

Once the machine was set up, HD swung Emmett into a fireman’s carry and crossed the loft in long strides before lowering him onto their bed and crawling up and looming over him. “Knock, knock,” HD said and started to unfasten Emmett’s shorts.

“Well, hello. Would you like to come in?” Emmett said lifting his hips and giving a little shimmy to help skin out of them.

HD kissed him long and deep and murmured as he worked his way down, and just before he dipped his tongue into Emmett’s navel said, “Yes, I would like to come in, if now’s not a terribly inconvenient time for you?”

“No,” Emmett gasped reaching for the lube, “I always have time for good,” and his voice broke as HD licked his cock from root to tip, “good company. You come right in.”

The nice thing about their loft was each table beside the bed had lube and the correct size condoms, given what a very big boy HD was. The not so nice thing was it currently had his brother wandering into the kitchen to peer in the fridge, close it and look directly into their bedroom before saying, “Jesus, shut the wall if you’re going to do that.”

Emmett was pretty sure he’d never blushed so hard in his life. He was also pretty sure Jud’s whole life had passed before his eyes when a very hard HD had stood and all but slammed the screen. Not that HD ever glared at him like that but he could understand the intimidation factor. Of course when HD turned back to him they both burst out laughing and even heard Jud saying, “yeah, har, har, very funny,” as he wandered off and they heard the door to his room slide open and closed.

 


	62. That's not too abysmal,

 

Brian rolled on top of him to reach the ringing phone. They had ended up kind of shuffled around in regard to who was on what side of the bed during the night. Justin just wanted to die or at least sleep through Saturday. He moaned in protest and once Brian had the phone and removed his weight from him, Justin curled in a ball and pulled the pillow over his head.

It almost worked until he heard Brian said, “No that’s fine really, I’ll come now.”

“What’s happening?” he mumbled when Brian ended the call and started to get out of bed, “Is it your dad?”

Brian said, “no, nothing’s wrong, go back to sleep. I’m just going to get Gus. Mel wanted to know if I could keep him overnight. She’s really been working Kal too many hours and doesn’t want him quitting on her.”

“Nothing like giving you some notice,” Justin muttered into his pillow, and then said louder, “want me to come?”

Brian said, “No, we’ll be back before you know it and I’ll try and get him to nap because it’s too damn early.”

+

Part of Mel wanted to hit Brian because he was being so fucking accommodating. He should have at least bitched about the short notice; it wasn’t like he hadn’t just taken Gus for the night the day before. She was so angry. The calls she’d made yesterday had yielded a lot of information but none of it very helpful in actually getting Lindsay on the fucking phone. Lindsay had been frequenting some local galleries and most of the people Mel had spoken to knew of her. There was a former colleague of Lindsay’s at the school who did sculptures out of found items that Lindsay had gotten a show for and one of the pieces by the student recommended by the professor from CMU was showing in a gallery. So Lindsay was working, it’s just she was spending a lot of time, according to one gallery owner, with a known artist who already had representation. It sounded like this artist was the man who she went to New York with. It didn’t make sense even if he had hooked her up with whomever she was going to New York to see for him to accompany her. It looked more and more like she was having an affair, except for the fact it was a man.

What had Mel so steamed was most of the people she talked to from the artists to the gallery owners thought she was Lindsay’s childcare provider or friend. None of them, except her former coworker, seemed to realize she had a partner. Mel played on that, the concerned friend watching her child to get more details about this artist she’d been so cozy with.

There was a knock at the kitchen door, so Brian must have parked in the back. She’d be irritated at how comfortable he seemed here always brining food over but she remembered when Lindsay had been pregnant he seemed to shower her with chocolate and ice cream, so apparently that was just how Brian Kinney dealt with pregnant women. The door was unlocked and he came in on his own. No one should look that good at six in the morning, not given that he was probably out clubbing until the wee hours. He hadn’t shaved or showered, his hair had the just rolled out of bed look most guys spent hours achieving. He was in old worn jeans, beat up docksides and a faded tee shirt. She didn’t even go for guys and she got why they all wanted him. He was also holding out a white paper bag to her.

“What’s this,” Mel asked as she took the bag.

Brian leaned over Gus, already in his car seat and kissed him on the head before saying, “Breakfast. I don’t know what you have planned, and really I like it that way, plausible deniability and all. But you should eat first and remember stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“Lox, cream cheese and a bagel, how very stereotypical,” Mel said.

Brian didn’t look up from checking through Gus’ bags to make sure everything was there and said, “an onion bagel, because that’s how you roll. If you’re planning to go to New York and get arrested, remember I have a vested interest in your uterus and a lawyer on standby who can wire you bail money to keep the fetus out of the clink.”

Onion happened to be her favorite and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out how Brian knew that. He was right, not that she’d tell him that, the stress was bad for the baby she’d been having horrible indigestion. Despite having a good idea where Lindsay was staying and with whom, storming in and making a scene would just make things worse. She said, “I’m not planning to leave the city, but I have a line on a phone number for the guy she’s might be with, maybe she’ll talk to me if I call him.”

Brian winced and said, “Justin keeps telling me to stay out of it that it’s not our business. But,” and here he lifted Gus’ carrier up like it was an example and finished, “I can’t help feel involved. You want him back before or after dinner tomorrow or do you need me to keep him until Monday?”

“Can I let you know?” she asked.

Brian said, “sure no problem. For what it’s worth, I tried to call her but I’m going straight to voice mail too. The only message I left was for her to call me and that it was about Gus; that was Thursday after we left here and she hasn’t called. As I pointed out to Justin that’s exactly what would occur if she was hurt or incapacitated so if she isn’t hurt or incapacitated she’s being a pretty shitty mom.”

“I think she knows from my messages that her game is up,” Mel said.

Brian shook his head said, “But she doesn’t know Gus is alright unless you’ve been reassuring her in your messages, if all you’ve said is that you’re aware she isn’t doing work for Justin or you want to know where she is and who she’s with she still has no way of knowing if we are also trying to reach her regarding Gus. Think about it, if he was sick or was hurt, how would we get in touch with her? She is deliberately avoiding the calls and not calling back, what if something had happened? She’s like a teen out after curfew trying to avoid punishment. This isn’t how a responsible parent acts.”

“You know, I never really believed that you wanted a kid, I thought you were just giving in to Lindsay, the way you do to Michael. You do a lot for those two that I know you don’t want to,” Mel said.

Brian shook his head again and said, “Only if I have no opinion regarding what they want. I can be a real bastard if they try and force me on something I want. But she really wanted a baby and I believed her reasons were good ones. Well she has one and she’s just up and left him. Come on, we both see he notices she’s not around. For you and me it’s been a few days, but those days are a huge percentage of his life. You know she’ll freak if he treats her like a stranger when she gets back, there’ll be tears and she’ll start monopolizing him like right after he was born.”

“It still drives her crazy that he stops crying for you and just cries more for her,” Mel said.

Brian shouldered the bags and said, “She used to be the best manipulator, but she’s been outclassed by this little guy.”

And he left, probably going back to bed and if his uncanny luck held true Gus would nap until Daddy was ready to get up. God she hoped this one was a girl; the world wasn’t ready for three of them.

+

Gus didn’t go back to sleep, but he quietly chattered away to himself while Brian did for another hour. Brian got up to change him after that and brought him back to bed. Justin rolled over and murmured, “hi Gus,” before falling back asleep. After lounging in bed for a while father and son got up to make coffee. They were laying in the Corbusier one sipping coffee while the other digested the bottle he’d downed while the coffeemaker had chugged, when the door buzzer startled both of them.

It was Michael. Jesus it wasn’t quite eight o’clock on a Saturday. Brian buzzed him up and opened the door.

“Brian, you’re naked. And holding a baby,” Michael said by way of greeting.

Brian said, “Yeah, take him. I’ll get dressed.” He closed the louvers while he grabbed his jeans, because Justin would rip Mikey a new one if he woke him. He came back out to find Michael holding Gus like he might explode and said, “You want coffee?”

“Yeah, take him back, huh?” Michael said.

Brian snorted, poured Michael a mug and set it by him before taking Gus back. He said, “I thought you were all parental now that Hank’s visiting.”

“Should you be naked around a baby?” Michael asked.

Brian looked at him, wondered if he needed more coffee and said, “What?”

“He’s a kid, aren’t you worried that, well,” Michael said, making a weird flailing motion with his hand.

Brian thought and then asked, “Aren’t you getting any since Dave’s mini me showed up? Is this about sex with kids in the house? I can’t get behind a belief that parents should be celibate to avoid scaring their children. I’m pretty sure Mel and Lindz are doing it. I don’t like to think about it but, yeah, they are.”

“No, it’s just you’re a gay man, naked with a child,” Michael said trailing off.

Brian put Gus in his carrier where it sat on the table and strapped him in, gave him a toy and turned to Michael. He opened his mouth, closed it and took a breath. Visibly took control of himself and said, “I’m a father. My son isn’t old enough to know a dick from a finger. Should his mom be hiding her boobs from him as well? Jesus Mikey, where are you getting this puritanical streak? Should nudist not be allowed to breed like fags and dykes shouldn’t?”

Michael gaped and then hurried to say, “I don’t think that way, you know that. I’m just looking out for you. You know what people think, you have to be careful; someone could accuse you-”

“Shut up, Michael,” Justin said. He was looking pissy and was wearing those weird baggy cotton pants that were his default when he needed to pull on clothes because they weren’t alone. He stumbled to the kitchen and made the ‘give me all the coffee’ move with his fingers until Brian poured him a cup. Brian’s two cup coffee pot hadn’t survived Justin moving back in, he’d snorted and asked ‘what do you plan to drink’ before they got a bigger one. Justin slurped half the cup, hot and black, and looked up at Michael and said, “People, the kind of haters you seem so worried about, think fags molest children regardless. Why should Gus deal with a dad who’s afraid to be around him just to appease ‘people’ who can’t be appeased?”

“What brought this on Michael, it’s not like you?” Brian said.

Michael was examining his cup and said, “I’m just worried. Hank had a really good time last night but he’s going to tell his mom and she might think we shouldn’t have taken him.”

“If she’s a typical West Coast liberal she won’t use ‘Rocky Horror’ or her ex switching teams as a reason to dislike you she’ll pick on the age or the financial drain of Dave keeping a boy toy,” Brian said.

Michael now looked deeply offended which was better than morose. He said, “I’m not a boy toy. And what makes you think Dave switched teams?”

“Ah, he married her? That gives the illusion that at some point in his life he was at least considering living the happy hetro lifestyle. Either he duped her from the beginning and was cheating on her the whole time, in which case, ‘Rocky Horror’ is the least of your worries, or he switched teams, had a late coming of age or was just so deeply in denial that he had a wife and kid before he realized he was gay,” Brian said. “I figured since you know him best, and still want to be with him, I would give him the benefit of assuming he switched teams. By the way, why aren’t you home playing the blissfully happy Stepford fag this early Saturday morning?”

“I have to go to work,” Michael said, looking resentfully at them, Brian guessed because they didn’t have to go into work, “I wanted to see if you wanted to get breakfast first. I wasn’t expecting nudity, babies,” and he gestured at Justin who was refilling his cup, “everything.”

Justin must have caught the look because after taking another gulp he lifted his face from his coffee long enough to grumble out, “Hello, some of us stayed and cleaned up the theater last night; and didn’t get home until nearly three, and were up at some ungodly hour to go fetch our kid. Brian works more hours than you and Dave combined and he’s a good father with or without clothing. And when, dear God, will you get used to the fact that I live here. Be as rude to me as you like, I’m not going anywhere. He’s mine. Cope and deal; or don’t, I don’t really care.”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” Brian said. “What time do you have to be at work?”

“Nine,” Michael said, “but I can be a little late, Tracey’s there to cover, she switched with Bob.”

“We missed her last night,” Justin said, “And Chris.”

“She was working,” Michael said and sighed, “She’s a really good assistant manager but I worry that our being friends isn’t professional. She’s been asking to switch to the early shift and I think if we weren’t friends it would be easier to say no.”

Brian went into the bedroom and grabbed some shirts, and tossed one to Justin. He had only put the bottles in the fridge the rest of Gus’ bags were still packed. He slid on the shoes from that morning, and tossed a pair of paint covered canvas shoes out into the main room.

“Why does she want the earlier shift?” Justin asked taking a bottle out of the fridge and putting it in Gus’ bag.

Michael said, “Everyone does, that way you’re home when everyone else is, no one wants to be at work until ten at night.”

“Tracey doesn’t have kids, Michael and with how late Chris often works, ten at night is the shank of the evening, Brian and I rarely head to the clubs before that,” Justin said, “and when late nights are de rigueur then sleeping in is necessary.” Here he paused to glare at Michael, “You should ask her. Because she will still be your friend but she might not be your employee if she needs an early schedule and you can’t accommodate her.”

Michael said, “You really think she’d quit?”

“It’s a job Michael, not even a high paying one,” Brian said. “She’s bright, personable, hell I’d hire her. People leave jobs all the time.”

+

They weren’t really dressed and while Justin had no problem appearing in public in an old tee shirt, yoga pants and paint splattered shoes, Brian Kinney going anywhere on Liberty Avenue looking like he was on the walk of shame while carrying a baby and his accoutrements should have stopped traffic. They took the sports wagon, Brian had even had a base for Gus’ car seat installed in the back seat, and Michael had asked Brian, in a tone that indicated alien abduction was likely, “Did you get a new car?”

“It’s Justin’s,” Brian said from the driver’s seat because Justin still wasn’t awake enough to drive.

Michael said, “Must be nice,” kind of under his breath and Justin wondered if he’d been meant to hear it. Michael obviously was assuming it was from Justin’s parents and in the spirit of keeping the peace Justin didn’t say ‘it was a gift from Brian’ in his own snotty brat voice.

Debbie was there; surprisingly given she’d been out nearly as late as them. How she managed to be so chipper had Justin pondering if she was on more than coffee. She was thrilled to see Michael and Justin got the impression breakfasts at the diner were rare now that he was living with Dave.

“Pancakes, double order of bacon and a vanilla milkshake,” Justin said.

Brian looked resentful and said, “Oatmeal, syrup on the side.”

Michael had eggs over easy and Deb, after putting in their orders came back to grill him about his life. Justin got up, went into the kitchen and brought out the high chair for Gus. As he was setting it up to hold the car seat, Deb asked, “How did you know where that was?”

“I’ve been here before,” Justin said, not mentioning that he used to work there and knew where everything was kept.

Justin tuned out the Brian and Mikey show, it was too damn early. It seemed as if they had just spent a Saturday together and sometimes he wondered what they found to talk about. Shared history was fine but Brian was contemptuous of retail, unless it was Hugo Boss or Prada and Michael’s understanding of Brian’s job seemed to center around wining, dining and seduction. For all his aping heteronormative behavior, Michael had never shown much interest in Gus. Even after Jenny had been born when he’d been playing at being a doting dad, Gus had just been that other kid. Brian was the one who made sure that they were treated as siblings and Jenny got a toy whenever Gus got one and to include her as often as possible considering the age difference. While Michael had been Uncle Michael the same as he been Uncle Justin, Jenny had called Brian, Pop to Michael’s Dad. Justin felt that Jenny had gone a long way to laying the shadows to rest associated with the name as that had been what Brian called his own dad most of the time.

Ted came in and joined them, Justin said, “We missed you last night. Not a fan of the Time Warp?”

“Garth Racine had a little soiree last night. All things considered I should have gone to your fundraiser,” Ted said.

“Trouble in paradise, Theodore?” Brian asked. “Thought you and Garth were tight, isn’t he on board with your gay country club?”

“I’m tired of him treating me like a pimp,” Ted said and then as Debbie came over added, “egg white omelet and turkey bacon.”

“Sell him a portion of the website and let him hit on the boys himself,” Brian said. “Surely you’ve had them all now anyway.”

Justin said, “HD said you’re a gay Robert Palmer; remember Billy on Ally McBeal had a smoking hot entourage following him around and it turned out to be a sign of a brain tumor.”

“I’m not that bad,” Ted said but from his smirk he took it as a compliment.

Michael snorted into his coffee and said, “You’re nearly as bad as Brian anymore. “

“Not everyone dreams of a house in the suburbs Mikey,” Brian said.

Michael had to leave for work before Ted’s meal came. After that they ended up talking mostly business. Justin didn’t have an exact tally on the fundraiser, he knew they brought in over thirty thousand, but there were expenses to be deducted. Ted said once they got him the numbers they would look into funding a trust for Hunter’s education. Daphne was still pushing to have Hunter private schooled. Her reasoning being that he would need the time and attention smaller classes could give and to get his grade to a point he’d have a shot at a college scholarship. Privately Justin thought it was just Brittney and Monica wanted to take their pet to school with them.

Ted was heading up to Seven Springs for a wine festival, oddly enough not with one of the porn boys but with Maurie Cample’s assistant Kevin from his travel agency. So if nothing else hanging with Garth and the A Gays, which sounded to Justin like the name of a really bad band, was providing him with opportunity to cruise other upwardly mobile gay men. But Ted seemed happy and his eyes weren’t vibrating the way they had when he was using. Maurie hawked gay cruises, which sounded like bathhouses on water but Justin couldn’t shake the Love Boat reruns it brought to mind and it was one thing he and Brian had never tried.

After breakfast they had a lazy day. The weather was okay for April, a rare mild day. It was too bad Gus was too young to appreciate the park because it would have been a perfect for the playground. They parked the car back at the loft and wandered around the Strip District looking at the weekend street vendors, stopped at ‘The Coffee Tree’ for a pound of beans and picking up some DVDs. Justin couldn’t wait for Roku or streaming online. It was so much easier to download and it didn’t clutter up the place with disks and boxes.

The doors were open at ‘The Harp and Fiddle’ and live music was playing with pipes and bodhrán. They stopped not so much for the food but to rest their feet. They also needed to feed and change Gus and give Brian’s arm a break from carrying Gus in his car seat. One of Brian’s dad’s friends stopped by the table and apparently Jack had bragged about Gus because he knew about him. He was there with his wife and grandkids, twin boys about Molly’s age to hear the band. Jerry Conroy was apparently one of the guys who either planned well for his retirement or married money or maybe just didn’t booze it up all the time because he was no longer in the old neighborhood and looked to be doing much better than Jack. He’d been at the not-wake and the guys at the club had credited Brian with the idea, although from what Brian had told Justin he’d been trying to dodge having one after Jack died and somehow ended up footing the bill while he was alive.

Jerry told an embarrassing story about a company picnic at Kennywood when Brian was younger while his wife fussed over Gus. Justin was pretty convinced they were both in the dark about them until Jerry’s wife Mary Margaret, call me Peg dear, confided she had a nephew whose a homosexual don’t you know and she thought it was just wonderful that homosexuals could settle down now and raise kids without people fussing at them. She wished her nephew Alan would find someone, she didn’t want him growing old alone, and how did they meet. Justin felt his smile frozen on his face, not only from the information dump but from not wanting to alienate people who were at least trying to be nice.

Brian said, “I picked him up on a street corner.”

“Must you make it sound like I was soliciting?” Justin said, and looked at Peg and said, “That was just where I was standing when we met, I wasn’t – damn it Brian.”

Jerry thought it was a good story and laughed and Peg said, “He always was a scamp.”

Brian settled up their tab and they went back to wandering around the Strip. Brian said, “I remember them, from when I was a kid. I remember wishing Pop was more like Jerry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him have more than one beer and he never drinks the hard stuff. Saint Joan hated Peg, I wonder if she knew about the nephew?”

For once neither of them did any work on a Saturday. Gus dozed off while they walked and when they got back to loft and Gus woke up they took him out of the carrier for a change and spread his blanket over the soft fur throw on the floor. He was doing some kind of mime thing with moving his arms and legs as he lay on his tummy and not getting anywhere. Mel had warned them he was starting to flip over onto his stomach by himself. And he would squeal and start flailing like he thought he could move. Brian though it was hysterical and said they should film it for blackmail material when he got older.

“I missed so much of this shit the first time,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Not maliciously, you believed you were doing the best thing for him. You trusted Lindsay and Mel to give him a happy stable home life. He loved you so much, idolized you, you’d have been so proud-” Justin broke off because, well it still hit him, not so much when Brian was right next to him but you didn’t just forget that kind of grief. And it was odd, but like now with Gus right here, he mourned him, the fifteen year old him, the way he mourned the Debbie who was and his mom, they were so like and yet so unlike the ones he remembered from before.

“Hey, none of that; I’m here, you’re here, Gus is here,” Brian said, “No regrets, right? We had a good life, and we’re making a good one again. And this time we get to see him figure out how to get his limbs working together, maybe see his first step, hear his first word. Let him know what a great kid he is.”

Justin swallowed the lump in his throat and said, “He knew. He knew you thought he was the sun and the moon and all the stars.”

Even Brian’s eyes were bright with unshed tears and he said, “I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You spent your whole adult life being the grownup for me and then I leave you to be the grownup for this whole sorry crew. You did good, Sunshine. You deserved more time. I’m glad we got it.”

“Even when we have to watch the people we love make the same damn dumb mistakes?” Justin said, eager to change the subject before he started snotting all over like a weepy little fag.

Brian shrugged and said, “Gotta respect the crazy. They came kicking and screaming into adulthood right along with me. But it wasn’t an easy trip for any of us.”

It was ironic that having an infant in the place with restful for them but when Gus visited they let work slide and made it an early night. Given Brian’s penchant for getting up and working when sleep was illusive this was a Godsend. Not that he didn’t still get up, but once he checked Gus and changed him if needed, he’d either come back to bed or sit with him in the Corbusier while he sang old 80s songs to him until Gus fell back to sleep.

Sunday when they went to brunch Justin’s mom was there she’d stopped by early and didn’t intend to linger but wanted to see Justin and firm up plans for dinner. Justin offered to cook on the next weekend but with his dad’s stores being busiest on the weekend Jennifer asked if they have dinner Tuesday evening at his parent’s place. Brian was kind of put on the spot and that was unlike his mom so he was prepared to turn her down when Brian said, “Sure, but one of Gus’ mom is away on business so we might have him that night.”

“Oh, that’s no trouble, if he’s with you just bring him,” she said and once she cornered them and got a commitment left. Brian just shrugged it off.

After they brunched, Justin was showing Elizabeth pictures from the fundraiser. She’s been interested in the concept of ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’ but had no desire to participate. She was glad to hear his mom came and that they were planning to have dinner. Justin had planned to call Ami and hire her to cook the meal and just leave it for him to plate when their guests arrived, but if his mother wanted to do all the work it wasn’t like the loft had a chef’s kitchen.

It was the worst timing given the Lindsay situation but life had to go on and there was really nothing they could do. He’d overheard Bertie and Brian talking about the not-wake at Jack’s club. Bertie thought it was a great idea, having it while you were alive and could spend one last carouse with your friends.

+

Monday, after school, there was the trip to the bank with Daphne. Ted had access to their online statements but they picked up the copies of the deposit slips to give to him for their records. It turned out one of the tellers had gone to the show with her friends and they were quite the celebrities thanks to her. Daphne would be emailing Ted on providing receipts on what they spent to make the prop packs as well as the price of the venue and security but it looked like they made over twenty five thousand dollars. As far as Daphne was concerned that meant Hunter was going to St. James. As Justin pointed out it covered tuition for two years with book fees and other associated cost; Hunter had four until graduation. It wasn’t that he wanted to split up the girls from their project.

He just had doubts about how welcoming the staff would be if they realized Hunter’s background and God forbid there be another up and coming Chris Hobbes in his class. Tossing him in with kids who had gone to private school with the advanced and accelerated learning seemed cruel as well. Hunter had been very bright, even in public school he’d done well enough for an academic scholarship. It had been to a state school, not the fast track to Ivy League St. James billed itself as, but he did really well, and he’d been an athlete. If he hadn’t had the virus, he could have gotten a swim scholarship. Daphne said he was just being a snob.

Justin was really too young, mentally as well as physically to be raising a kid with Daphne. They needed to tap some experts like Margret or Mason to sit on the board. As it was they only had the two of them on the board along with Ted watching to make sure they didn’t get sued for fraud or whatever happened if non-profits didn’t account for every dime.

Daphne wanted a digital version of the puff piece Brian was doing for the shadow cast on the website. She also said Sep was writing a big open thank you letter to all the businesses that donated stuff and wanted Brian to read over it to see that it didn’t offend anyone, because really September. The girl could write but she lacked editing skills, like not saying things that should just remain unsaid.

+

Brian had dropped Gus off late Sunday, which meant they had to get formula on the way back to the loft from brunch. Formula that Gus didn’t like and gave him diarrhea so Brian had gotten a crash course from Kal when he took Gus home and been assured that this too shall pass. Kal had a strange sense of humor. Brian wondered how he could stand just moving in with a family. The room was nice but surely it wasn’t worth all dealing with the drama dykes. This thing with Lindsay had to seriously be awkward for him. But then he’d come from some happy hetro family that had surely had their share of icy silences and screaming arguments. Mel apparently had talked to Lindsay. She’d reached Sam Auerbach and he’d handed his phone to Lindsay. The fact that this had happened shortly after Brian had picked up Gus on Saturday morning pointed to them sleeping together. It sounded like getting Gus out of there before she called had been the responsible thing to do.

So Brian bought the right kind of formula and a box of diapers that matched the ones Gus was in now to keep at the loft and they tossed the stuff from earlier. That was something he’d never had to do before, and the formula at least should keep him covered until the cereal stage. He seemed to remember Lindsay had moved him up to cereal by now, or at least before his dad died. Kal said he never gave kid’s solids until after six months, and Mel bowed to his expertise. Lindsay hadn’t gotten to weigh in because, she wasn’t here.

By Monday evening Brian still hadn’t heard from Lindsay. He’d stopped for lasagna at ‘Buca di Beppo’ on the way home, along with salad. And remembered to text Justin not to pick up dinner that it was covered, a well fed Justin was a happy Justin. Given all the drama and the amount of time they were spending watching Gus, Justin seemed to be getting short changed. Which was why he’d said yes to dinner with the ‘rents; God knew the drama wasn’t going anywhere, if it wasn’t the munchers, it would be St. Joan and her crusade against deviants.

+

Jud sat on the wall and watched the fountain. It was a nice day, he had his suit jacket on but a lot of the Pittsburghers were obviously unveiling their spring clothing. It was windy though and as the fountain shot water about twenty or thirty feet up and had jets on the side spraying in, the wind would hit the water and it would spray out on to the plaza occasionally accompanied by the squeal of a young woman if one happened to be walking by.  But he was sitting on the side upwind, along with a few of the people who worked in the tower who were sitting out and having coffee at the metal café tables scattered around the plaza.

The thought of coffee just made his stomach roll. Three hours ago he’d gone into the tall building up to the fifty eighth floor. It was his third trip in and he’d been able to find his way up without asking for directions this time. But they hadn’t sat him in a room and asked him questions or made him take tests on computers again. He was thankful Emmett had insisted on steaming and pressing his suit, because of course Emmett owned a clothes’ steamer, as he’d been taken around and introduced to upper management. He’d met the president of the company who congratulated him on his test scores and shook his hand. The offer had been made, by an HR rep. He started Monday. They were giving him a relocation stipend and three months in a corporate apartment, to give him time to find a place. He’d spent the rest of his time filling out tax forms and benefit elections.  There were a million things he had to do and here he was sitting staring at a fountain. It was a nice fountain though.

He needed to get back on the bus to Emmett’s place. Pack up, what he brought and screw Greyhound he needed to get a flight to Jackson, maybe he could call a friend, or Burnett to pick him up at the airport. Pack up his truck and drive back, and find out from Emmett where ‘The Pennsylvania’ was because apartment 804 was his for the next three month, they’d given him a new hire packet with all the details of the benefits he had just signed up for and containing the key to the apartment. He was reasonably sure he could pack all his junk in his truck if he left his furniture and used the moving stipend to purchase a new stuff once he found a place. One of the family could always find a use for what little furniture he had.

So why was he just sitting here instead of moving. He should be turning cartwheels, or the adult equivalent of that. He had more than doubled his income, had a new exciting job that he would be good at and he was moving to the city, which was what he had always wanted. Only in his mind the city had been Jackson and his family would have been an hour or so away. Pittsburgh might as well be on another planet, fifteen hours by car; two days by bus. He’d still been in high school when Emmett left home and it had taken over eight years for him to come back for a visit.

His mother was going to cry. Patty was going to make a scene. He wasn’t sure he could get a flight today, but if he flew in Wednesday, he’d have to start driving back by Friday or Saturday at the latest in order to be ready to work Monday. He should probably get some more dress clothes too. Mama and Aunt Lula couldn’t have one last Sunday dinner for him.

Aunt Lula might take heart in him being in the same city as Emmett but Mama had looked so angry. He hadn’t said he was staying with Em, just that he had an interview in Pittsburgh but she had that look. She hadn’t willingly spoken of Em in all these years. When local ladies would inquiry about how he was doing she’d alluded to him being off living the ‘fast’ life in the city but never acknowledged what everyone had known. With HD coming for a visit with him it had broken whatever illusion she had about the town gossips thinking she disapproved of Emmett’s wild ways with women.

Even Burnett thought HD was a good guy, for a faggot; not that Burnett had the balls to say that to his face. HD sure could work, not one of the family could say he was lazy that was for sure. Knew his stuff too, corralling that crew of misfits into reroofing Aunt Lula’s place was not something any of them would have undertook. Hell three of the neighbors had offered to pay them to do their places. Jud had been the one to let it out of the bag that none of them really knew what they were doing and that Emmett’s beau was the contractor.

What had once been a whispered speculation was now open gossip. Emmett had a young man, a great big young man who sat with him at church and visited his family. That bothered Mama the most. Before Em had come home, the ladies might have said behind her back that Em had run off to the city because he was, you know, one of those. Now it was a fact, Emmett Honeycutt lived up north and he was gay. It was talked about as openly as the Danver’s girl having a child out of wedlock or Sissy Jean’s cousin who moved out west and became a Scientologist.

He was twenty five years old. Sweet Jesus, he didn’t want three kids before he was thirty or to bank on some might be pension when he retired. He wanted a job he was good at that paid enough that he wouldn’t have to lie awake and worry about meeting his bills if he got sick or injured. He’d been sweet on Patty since he was fifteen years old. But sometimes that girl made him feel like any damn man could step in and play house with her. She wanted kids and backyard cook outs and church socials and pot lucks. Jud being Jud didn’t matter, she just needed any random guy to pay her bills and father her kids.

Patty and his Mama would never forgive him for throwing off the harness and refusing to tread that well-worn trail. It was as if because he wasn’t choosing that he was saying there was something wrong with them wanting it and that wasn’t it. If it made them happy more power to them, but why should he give up his life to play a part just to make them happy. Neither of them needed him they just wanted him to stay on his shelf and step up to say his lines when the cue called for it.

Well he’d accepted the job, and it was time to face the music. If he wanted his own life, the price would be risking them never speaking to him again. He’d just have to find a way to build a new life without them if they couldn’t accept it. Emmett had. Without a college degree or a job offer he’d got on the bus and come here with just the belief that there had to be something better.

Jud got off the wall and with one last look at the fountain headed for the bus stop.

+

Justin showed up at the temporary office right after school, still in his uniform. Ron did a double take and Justin grinned and said, “So you didn’t pick up I was still in high school during the interview?”

Ron actually had a really nice smile. He shook his head with a self-deprecating grin that was at odds with his ‘I have the biggest balls in the room’ attitude. Ian came walking out of the Art Room and stopped open mouth. Justin winked and said, “Can I convince you this is just one of Brian’s kinks?”

“Justin, you didn’t have to make a special trip,” Shelley said, peaking around where Ian had stopped in his tracks.

He ditched his jacket and tie, and rolled up his sleeves and got to work on finalizing the animated ad they did. Emmett called and invited Shelley to dinner to celebrate Jud getting the job he was interviewing for and Shelley logged into the Triple A website to print something off for Jud since he would be driving back from Mississippi.

“You falling for Em’s brother, Shell?” Justin asked.

Shelley shrugged and said, “The accent’s nice but I’m not really looking for someone right now. My plates pretty full, I just got my own place and I like my life. I don’t want to clutter it up with anything serious. But he’s going to need a friend and I can show him around the city. Not all of us want to be married at seventeen, Justin.”

“Brian and I are not married,” Justin said.

Shelley said, “I’m not judging. You’re both visibly happy and I’m happy for you. But I’m finally out from under my parents,” and she paused as if censoring herself, “loving protective embrace. I want my own life for a while before I have to start sharing and compromising again.”

“It’s not all compromising,” Justin said. “Sometimes you just fit, what you want is what they want and neither of you are giving anything up.”

Shelley said, “Well I’m glad, really. That sounds wonderful. But for me it always seems either me pulling one way and the guy pulling another, or we’re negotiating some accord. You know what compromising means? It means neither party gets what they wanted. That’s just fucked up.”

Hearing Shelley say fucked was really very funny. She had been with Ryder two years so was probably twenty four or five but she still kind of hunched her shoulders when she said it like her mom might suddenly appear to wash her mouth out with soap.

“Sunshine, we have got to go. I don’t want to deal with Mother Taylor if we’re late. Is that what you’re wearing,” Brian said as he stuck his head into the Art office.

Justin said, “I can change fast, I have clothes in my car. Are we taking mine or yours?”

“Mine, we’ll stop by after dinner and get yours before we go home,” Brian said.

+

Shelley left work while Justin was changing; and stopped by the state store on Wharton. She threw herself on the clerk’s mercy and told him a friend had a new job but she couldn’t afford the real classy stuff. He had set her up with a thirty dollar bottle of sparkling wine that had a cork to pop and according to him was good.

Emmett was a sweetie. Her parents had met him when she moved in and telling them he fed her home cooked meals as often as he did really made her mom happy. Em also always knew what was happening and where. She’d told him he should write a blog about what to do and where to go in Pittsburgh because he found out stuff she never even heard of like, free days at museums and the zoo and the aviary, new restaurants and stores, just everything; Emmett was hooked up.

She dumped her luggage, really that was what it felt like, she had a big tote with her lap top and she used it to hall in bottles of soda and her lunch and some reference material and boy would she be glad when they had their new place. She was hoping for her own space, maybe not her own office but somewhere to store her junk and not need to keep it with her. She had work to do tonight but that could wait. She changed out of her work clothes and headed upstairs with her keys, the bottle and the map for Jud.

“It’s not Champaign, but it makes a pop when you open it and what else do you need for a celebration,” she said to HD as he opened the doors. She liked her place better with its rolling loft style door. But this was more Emmett. The big cherry wood double doors matched the flooring and the stained glass transom and side windows were gorgeous and obviously custom. “Congratulations!” she said to Jud as she preceded HD into the loft. This is for you.”

Jud looked down in confusion and said, “Thank you, you didn’t have to.”

“What is it?” Em asked.

Shelley said, “It’s a trip ticket. It not only maps the way from Hazlehurst to Pittsburgh it shows all current road constructions and advises on detours around it; for when you drive up.”

“Thanks. That’s really thoughtful,” Jud said.

The place smelled wonderful and HD opened the sparkling wine and they all had some. Shelley figured she and Em were the only ones who like it but the boys were polite and drank it before switching to beer. Em made really pretty stuffed chicken breasts rolled in a spiral with creamy spinach and cheese stuffing along with a beet salad and little roasted potatoes. Emmett was the best; if he was straight she would totally marry him.

HD was driving Jud to the airport in the morning, because Emmett had a meeting with a client. Jud didn’t look as happy as she thought he should be so she asked, “You’re really going to be homesick, aren’t you.”

“Well,” he said with a glance at Emmett, “I’ve never really been away before. Even when I went to school it was nights and weekends. I mean I would go work the drilling platforms for months at a time, but home was always home.”

Shelley got that, home was safe and family and well an easy trap to fall into. Why fly when everything was there? She said, “I think you’ll be fine. Once you get your own place and your own stuff you’ll wonder how you shared space with people all these years.”

+

Jennifer thought back to the conversation she’d had with Justin before Christmas. ‘Neutral Territory’, who talked like that at seventeen? She’d spoken with Lorraine several times about the language Justin used. At first it was just about the profanity but later, she’d mentioned certain words that had crept into his vocabulary overnight. Phrases that when she repeated them to Lorraine and asked that question had made her therapist rather thoughtful. It helped that she had met Justin, another therapist may have thought Jennifer was reading too much into the way he said things. Lorraine had admitted, both based upon what Jennifer said and meeting Justin herself that it seemed as if he’d been through therapy or taken a few classes in psychology. Given that other than summer camp and a few ski weekends with friends of the family Justin hadn’t been out of Jennifer’s sight since he was born she asked how that was possible. Lorraine pointed out that young people like Justin, homosexuals, often turn to books or websites devoted to psychology to help them figure themselves out or to prepare for the resistance they might meet from friends, family and society at large.

Jennifer hated to think of her baby gearing up for war, arming himself with words and statistics in preparation to defend himself against his family. She’d certainly handled it badly. Justin had told her exactly how the confrontation would go. It was only after it had all happened, after he disappeared into the night with practically the clothes on his back that she realized he’d never asked her to lie or to not tell Craig. He told her it would be a, well given his new penchant for profanity, a clusterfuck; and it had been. He’d only said ‘give me some time’ and he’d only asked for a couple days. Looking back it occurred to her that he’d spent most of the summer lining up a way to live when he was thrown out of his home. When, not if, because as far as her baby was concerned it wasn’t his home, it was his father’s and he wouldn’t be welcome in it as an adult.

And he wasn’t, not to live, but tonight, they would have a nice family meal; with her son’s… dear God, what did she call him? Brian, of course, but boyfriend, it sounded like they were sitting in a soda shop after school. Brian was no school boy. He was a man. The kind of man who turned heads and oozed sex appeal like a movie star; it was no wonder Justin was infatuated with him. He put Jennifer in mind of a land baron or carpetbagger, sweeping in and taking over a town. Her mother’s friend or beau, Lord that was another relationship that was hard to define, thought the world of him. Jennifer had no doubt if Brian put his mind to it he could charm the pants off half the ladies at club, more than half. But it was like a fancy overcoat donned to hide concealed weapons. In Brian’s case it was a sharp tongue, the ability to used vulgarity to expose hypocrisy and very little tolerance for the social incites. Of course when it had been directed at her brother Will over Christmas she was both impressed and relieved that he hadn’t had it in for Craig. Because Craig had never learned the art of verbal aggression; to him volume trumped logic, and if someone pointed out inconsistencies with his point of view he just stormed off.

And she was worried about Craig, he’d even suggested they send Molly to stay the night with a friend when he’d heard they were hosting Justin and his, well Brian. Craig was trying. She hoped Justin saw that. He’d even come to a couple of her sessions. He hadn’t even complained too much, not after the first one. Craig had confided he was surprised how little they talked about Justin. Molly had been a topic of more than one. Last week’s session, he’d been with her and she broached the idea of having Justin over for dinner, with Brian. She hadn’t even told him she was thinking of it but said she just wanted to hear what Lorraine thought. When she recounted some of Molly’s fears, how right after Justin moved out Molly had been rather concerned on where she would go and how she would live if she was told to leave next; Craig had looked appalled. It never occurred to him that by telling Justin, ‘be different or you’re not my son’ he was sending a message to Molly that Daddy’s love could be shut off at any time if she stepped out of line.

She had a crowned roast of lamb cooking, with an apple walnut couscous stuffing, it was Justin’s favorite and served with potatoes au gratin and some baby carrots in a cherry sauce and buttered asparagus should tell him just how much she missed him. The carrots were a nod to Molly since for some reason she loathed asparagus. She debated whether she should serve wine. Justin was now eighteen but the legal drinking age was twenty-one. She had no illusions he’d make it through collage without drinking but that was a far cry from condoning it at home. But this wasn’t his home and now thanks to the Kaufmanns even if he wasn’t living with his much older lover he had his own home. Is much older lover who, if she remembered correctly, had cut crystal whiskey glasses and an open bottle of Jim Beam Single Barrel on a low bar off the kitchen under a window. She’d recognized the bottle because it had been what her father drank.

She’d been thinking a lot about her father lately, now that her mother was keeping company with another man; and oddly enough her grandmother, who had disapproved of her parent’s marriage. Her mother had been a Doster, attended a private boarding school and had a coming out party at sixteen. So when she married that Corcoran boy you would have thought she’d run away to join the circus, or so the family tales went. With the hindsight of age and experience Jennifer knew that when her mother and father had expressed concerns about Craig her grandmother hadn’t supported her out of love alone. There had been an aspect of ‘what you reap, you sow’ in her assurances it would all work out for the best. And it had by the time Justin was born, she’d been so glad Grandmother had lived to see him. He hadn’t been quite two when she passed and that grand lady had got the chance to dandle him on her knee, look into those eyes so like her own had pronounce him an old soul. ‘Mark my words, Jenny-girl,’ she’d said, ‘this one will surprise us all.’ Grandmother Doster hadn’t claimed to be a prophetess but she certainly had been right about Justin, he was an old soul.

“What can I do?” Molly said, appearing at her elbow from wherever she’d been hiding.

Jennifer smiled, “you can help me put the linens on the table.”

“But it already has a table cloth,” Molly said.

Jennifer said, “This is a chance to use the good linens, and the good china.”

“I’m always afraid I’ll break it. Is there going to be yelling and fighting,” Molly said, “cause maybe we shouldn’t use it if there is.”

Jennifer held in a sigh and said, “We’re all going to be on our best behavior.”

Molly and she had polished the silver right after Justin had agreed. Craig promised he’d be home for this; it was why they were having it on a weeknight instead of weekend. She supervised making sure Molly got the place settings correct. Molly asked if she could have cranberry juice in her wine glass. It was telling she didn’t think Justin needed the same. The water goblets were filled with ice water. The roast was covered and resting and she was just putting dinner rolls into the oven and Craig still wasn’t home when the bell rang.

It was the first time she’d seen Brian in a suit; he must have come from work. Justin was in dress slacks and a button down, he looked a far cry from her scruffy teenager who had been prone to baggy pants and tee-shirts only a year ago. Justin kissed her cheek and handed her a bottle of Beaujolais and Brian had brought daffodils. Jennifer let Molly put the flowers in water and the wine on ice while she offered a crudité platter to munch on. If Craig wasn’t through that door in ten minutes she was putting it on the table and getting dragged to her therapist would be the least of his problems.

She noticed Brian checking his phone a couple times before Molly monopolized his attention with a project she was working on for school. Jennifer normally would have stepped into protect a guest from Molly’s new found enthusiasm for genetics and her chart of eye colors, hair and something Jennifer hadn’t been able to follow to do with tongues; but she was a little miffed he’d been checking his phone so often. She must not have done a good job hiding it because as Justin made inroads on the raw vegetables he offered, “Brian’s dad has cancer; we’re pretty much expecting to hear at any time now.”

“Oh Honey,” she said, “We could have rescheduled.”

Justin shrugged and said, “It’s not like he’d have been standing over his death bed. Brian’s folks have less to do with him than Dad has with me, at least since they he told them he was gay.”

“They didn’t know?” Jennifer said.

Justin made a face and said, “They didn’t want to know. He didn’t tell them until after Gus was on the way. I can’t imagine what that must have been like. Not the telling them, but the years of not telling them. As bad as it was, when Dad found out, at least I knew and then I could get on with my life. Brian had years in limbo, knowing how they’d react but smiling and pretending to be the son they wanted instead of the one they had. They don’t deserve him. Why should he have endured that pressure to please people who would damn him for something he has not control over.”

The front door opened and Craig never knew how close he’d come to feeling her wrath. She finished up the last minute items she hadn’t wanted to overcook and filled the serving dishes. Craig opened the wine only offering, “Traffic,” as an excuse.

The rolls were a bit darker than she liked but that didn’t stop Justin from having three. Brian was charming and complimented the meal. He and Craig really didn’t talk, but she hadn’t expected them too really. Molly chattered away to both of them about her genetics project.

“You should mention the brown spot,” Brian said, “it tracks through three generations. No one else in your class will have that in their projects.”

“What brown spot?” Craig asked, and it was the first thing he’d said directly to Brian that night. Jennifer wanted to know what brown spot too so she broke off her conversation with Justin about school.

Brian said to Craig, “Justin has the tiniest brown spot in the blue of his left eye,” your mom, he said to Molly, “has the same dot on her right side, your Grandmother Corcoran has it on the same side as Justin, if you go back probably one of her parents had it on the same side as your mom. It seems to flip back and forth each generation.”

Molly jumped up and circled the table to look at her mother’s eyes; and then Justin’s. Before she could run off and put it in her chart Jennifer said, “It will wait until after dinner Molly.”

“I don’t have that do I?” Molly said retaking her seat.

Brian said, “You have your dad’s eyes.”

Craig looked please and Molly had always been daddy’s little princess so she wasn’t too disappointed. “However did you know that?” Jennifer asked.

Brian paused before he said, “I just notice things.” Unspoken was he spent a great deal of time looking in Justin’s eyes.

While Jennifer could tell Brian and Craig would never be friends or even friendly, they both seemed to be capable of detente while the family dined. It was a nice dinner and gave her hope that Justin would remain a member of the family. She didn’t really expect Brian and Justin to remain together but if Craig could make nice for dinners and holidays she’d at least be able to keep her son in her life.

Later, while Jennifer washed, Justin dried. She found the silence uncomfortable and wished things could be like they were before he moved out. Watching him out of the corner of her eye as she carefully rinsed off her good china he seemed relaxed and maybe a bit tired.

Brian sat over at the kitchen table with Molly as she showed him her family tree and the various notations for genetic traits. It was only for the living members she had blood types for but with her grandmother alive and of sound mind she’d been able to fill in hair and eye color, height and other attributes, like freckles or if they were prone to sunburn. He seemed quite knowledgeable about blood types and had drawn a matrix for her showing how dominate and recessive worked that parents with two different types had the possibility of children in each of the four types. She was surprised by how patient he was with her. She knew he had a child but an infant in no way prepared you for how draining a child Molly’s age could be.

Craig had been hovering around while Justin helped her with the cleanup. Possibly he didn’t trust Brian with his little girl but he hadn’t engaged him or been antagonizing so she was trying to count it as a win. When Brian’s phone vibrated he excused himself and stepped back into dining room to take the call. Justin gently put the dish he was drying down and looked as if he wanted to join him but stayed.

“Is something wrong with Brian?” Molly asked.

Justin said, “His dad is real sick. He has cancer.”

“Is he going to die?” she asked in the matter of fact way of children.

Before Jennifer could admonish her you didn’t just ask something like that, Justin said, “Yeah, honey, the doctors told him around Christmas he only had a couple months left.”

“That’s more than a couple months,” Molly said with calm pragmatism. Her little girl might cry when a cartoon character died but really didn’t have a frame of reference for death in real life.

Justin said, “Sometimes doctors are wrong. I guess if they know they’re going to be off they would prefer people get more time than think they have time and leave something undone or unsaid.”

“That makes sense,” she agreed.

Brian came back into the room repocketing his phone. All eyes were on him so he just said, “Pop’s gone.”

 

 


	63. We could take in an old Steve Reeves movie

 

“Claire, seriously not now, I got enough on my plate without all this weeping and wailing,” Brian growled. She’d brought the hell spawn with her and Brian had barked at them to put their hands on their head, touch nothing and sit on the fucking couch. No they couldn’t turn on the TV, no they couldn’t have a snack, and don’t get comfortable because you’ll be leaving soon.

“Brian, be nicer they just lost their grandfather,” she said

Brian growled, “He’s not lost he’s down at ‘Beinhauer’s’. Why don’t you take them and let them watch the embalming process.”

“Brian!” Claire said, “I can’t believe how callous you’re being about all this. Mother needs us right now.”

“Saint Joan wants her faggot son to burn in hell. And she’s going be – hey, hands on heads over there; touch nothing – pissed as hell that you let her still possibly redeemable grandsons within a mile of me, Brian said. “Listen, everything is already paid for,” he crossed to his desk and pulled out a file, “here’s a copy, give it to The Warden, I know Pop had a copy but he might not have given it to her. He talked to the funeral director and made all the hard decisions. She’ll just have to show up and look disapproving at everyone who isn’t as righteous or holy as her.”

Claire wiped her eyes and settled her trembling lip and said, “She needs you, Brian she needs a man to help her choose what suit he should wear and everything.”

“The only two reasons she ever needed us was to tie him to her and to have a captive audience for her martyrdom. He only had one suit, bury him with the bowling ball; I don’t know what to tell you Claire.” Brian said, “Other than my occasionally paying his bar tab; Pop and I were never close. Mom hasn’t wanted to see me in over a year since she I told her I was gay. She probably doesn’t even want me to come.”

“You’re gay?” one of the spawn asked.

Brian growled, “Yes. And it’s all Granma’s fault. You’re mother turns you gay; make sure you tell her that.”

“Brian!” Claire said, “Daddy’s dead, can’t you be serious. You have to be there, people would talk if you weren’t.”

“Who the fuck are these people Claire? The ones we spent so many years worrying about, the ones we hid all the drinking, the yelling, the fighting, the black eyes and the bruises from? Haven’t they died out yet? When can we just say we’re not going to take the abuse without worrying about what people will say?” Brian asked.

Claire shot a concerned look toward her kids and then hissed, “It wasn’t abuse. Things were just different then, everyone drank and everyone disciplined their kids.”

“Claire if you or Dickard ever disciplined the hell spawn that way you’d do hard time,” Brian said, and then yelled, “Stay on the couch,” And then he signed, “God is that one even house broken yet? I don’t want them using my bathroom. I promise I’ll stop by and let Saint Joan slam the door in my face if you just take them away, now.”

+

Brian had gotten Lindsay’s side of the story of her; well it wasn’t a lost weekend, she’d taken off for New York with intentions of staying a week. Her unnamed ‘connection’ was introducing her to gallery owners in New York by way of squiring her around on his arm at parties. However Mel found out and called her, on Sam Auerbach’s cell. Leave it to a determined angry dyke lawyer to find or blackmail the number out of someone. Their screaming phone call had Lindsay intending to stay another week in avoidance.

Brian had been less than sympathetic when she finally called him days after the screaming match; he let her paint her picture; an idyllic version of events in which she took as little responsibility for her actions as possible. Unfortunately for Lindsay, during her cooling off period Jack had passed away. Once Brian had listened to her tell her side of the story, and it really sounded like most of it was made up; he hadn’t mentioned Mel or the stress and her pregnancy he just pointed out what a large percentage of Gus’ life two weeks was and equated it to how much time it was in that same percentage of Lindsay’s life – three years. He then pointed out she was just making the situation worse by hiding from it and said that if she was thinking of moving Gus to another city to live with some married artist who went through women like Brian went through tricks she would be the noncustodial parent even if he had to buy a house in Highland Park and hire his own nanny. It was only after she sputtered indignantly that Brian was out of line that he first mentioned that Gus could have died during her incommunicado period and she wouldn’t have known. He then told her his father had passed and asked if she intended to make it back to see their son before Gus forgot who she was.

Brian thought back to the conversation he’d had sitting on the couch with Mel on Sunday night when he dropped Gus off. When she said Lindsay had decided she was staying another week; so that, according to Lindsay, they could each come at this with cooler heads. Brian seemed to be stopping almost every night. He took a lot of food over, which if nothing else made Kal happy; but it was mostly an excuse to see Gus.

“Maybe she’s bi, or maybe it had nothing to do with sex and she was just using sex to get something she wanted, like attention now that she’s not the star of the baby making show,” Brian said, cradling Gus who was still pissed about the wrong formula. “Not like I have a leg to stand on I’ve banged women when the job called for it.”

Mel, who was an angry crier, not in that she cried when she was angry but that crying made her angry or angrier, hissed out, “what she is, is selfish. How could she do this now? I put up with her mood swings and insecurities over her body changing while she was pregnant. I dealt with her constantly changing her mind on what she wanted to do and was the one to find the money and rework the budget and hell, Brian, I didn’t want you to be Gus’ father, I thought she was too emotionally invested in you and it would ruin our relationship.”

“You’re right, she is selfish and she is too emotionally invested in me, but Mel, she was that ten years ago in college, she was that six years ago when you two officially, in the manner of dykes everywhere, declared yourselves to be a couple and she was that way before and after Gus was born,” Brian said, “as irritating as she can be, that’s Lindsay and that’s the girl we both love. It’s just, you know, only one of us wants to have sex with her.”

“Don’t be too sure of that, right now she isn’t that appealing,” Mel said. “What am I going to do? I’m so angry with her.”

“In the long run? That’s going to be your call,” Brian said, “But for now, you’re going to drink some water, pee a lot because you’re pregnant and that’s the one part of pregnancy I’ve figured out. What you’re not going to do is storm out and sleep on some sympathetic dyke’s couch. You’re going to sleep in your own bed and live in your own house and Lindsay will have to deal. Gus is your son, just as much as hers, and you and I both saw he noticed when she was away, there’s no need for him to go through that with you as well just because the two of you are uncomfortable with each other. You’re mothers now and that means you don’t get to indulge in the teenaged angst of non-parental lesbians. No firing up the Harley and riding into the sunset. You stay and work it out. And it might not work out to the point you’re a couple again, but you will always be the parent of each other’s children. Welcome to the wonderful world of heteronormativity. Straight couples have been dealing with this awkwardness forever. Just be thankful Gus is too young to remember the strained silences and icy distain. By the time he and the new guy are old enough to question the status quo you will either be back together or have a healthy working relationship.”

“And if it was Justin who cheated on you?” Mel bit out, suspiciously as if Brian were selling her a line.

Brian tried to distract Gus with one of his musical blocks and sighed, “What is cheating? For Justin and I? We trick together, we check out guys together. You mean if he moved out and moved in with someone his own age? It would slice my soul like a knife in the back. But I would hope that I would still want the best for him, that I’d want him to be safe and happy. You got to understand Mel, Justin is the first, the only person I’ve been in love with. And even I, bastard that I am, can admit being in love is pretty damn amazing, but it’s also the worst, the most terrifyingly vulnerable feeling in the world. It’s like suddenly you have all these soft spots you never knew about and it’s just a wealth of new ways the world can kick you in the balls. I can’t imagine, even if he left me that I could turn that feeling off. It would hurt that he left but what would be worse, I think at least, is I’d still feel that vulnerability with no right or power to check on his safety or happiness – that’s the part that would kill me.” Surprisingly, Mel looked like she got it even without the torrid tale of Ian the mawkish musician.

Mel sighed and wiped her eyes and said, “Am I being selfish? I really want to scream at her and say it was my turn. You were supposed to be here for me like I was for you. I feel like I’m five and on the playground, and I just pushed Lindsay on a swing all morning and now that it’s my turn she’s run off to play with some boy she just met and left me.”

“Justin would say,” Brian said, handing Gus to Mel, “that when you have a whole person, inside you, feeding off you until it grows strong enough to fight its way out of your body, that you’re entitled to be selfish. And you had an agreement, even if it was nonverbal, you didn’t just get pregnant on a whim. We’re not like straight people, babies don’t just happen. You talked about it, she went to the clinic with you, if she didn’t feel emotionally capable of giving you the support you needed, the support you gave her when she was pregnant, she should have spoken up before you conceived.”

Brian lifted Mel’s feet up and pulled them up to the side so her legs were stretched out on the couch. He grasped one of her socked feet in his hands and glared at her as if daring her to acknowledge he was doing this and started to work his thumbs into the arch of her foot in a manner that used to have Justin making pornographic noises after one of his shifts at the diner. Mel arched her back and cuddled Gus close, and they sat in silence for a while.

+

So somehow he’d become Mel’s agony aunt. It was like he could feel his dick shrinking. Of course Justin, WASP that he was, was all for them staying neutral and not making it worse. But Justin routinely catered to five hormonal teenaged girls so Brian figured he had some leeway in the fag hag department. So here he was, having tossed his sobbing sister, or gently directing her to the funeral director with a copy of the receipt for two prepaid funerals for the Kinneys. He hoped Jack had, as he had assured Claire, gone down there before he got too bad and sussed out the arrangements. Claire was still insisting he come to the house and help get ready for the reception afterward, despite Saint Joan wanting him to be exorcised of his gay demons.

Now he had his other baby mama to check on and let her know he talked to Lindsay, preferably before Lindsay shared the news of his father passing because when you had multiple fag hags they got jealous over who found out first. You would think he’d have learned that from years with Mikey and Lindsay competing over who was his ‘best’ best friend. And did he just think of Michael as one of his fag hags? He needed to get out of town once he got his dykes speaking to each other and the old man buried.

So he stopped at ‘Whole Foods’ on the way over and grabbed a deli tray and two quarts of potato salad. He also placed and order for the day of the burial and hired a delivery service to see it was there on time.

“You’ve got to stop brining food,” was Mel’s greeting as she answered the door with Gus in her arms.

Brian didn’t stop and headed for the kitchen, “Technically, since I’m Irish, I should be bringing you copious amounts of whiskey, but you’re pregnant and that would be wrong. Pop died. I was ordering trays for after the burial and just grabbed something for you and Kal.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be pregnant,” Mel said, looking down at Gus in her arms. “This is no kind of situation to bring a kid into. My life is a mess. I don’t see how Lindsay and I are going to get through this. I called an abortion clinic; just to see what would be involved. They recommended I make the decision soon and said the longer I wait; well, the longer you wait the more dangerous it is.”

“You know,” Brian said looking up from squatting in front of the fridge to fit the food in, “maybe the PC response is to say something lesbionic like ‘it’s your body; it’s your decision’ but fuck that. You got me all attached to the little parasite now, you can’t just flush it. I want to jump on the selfish bandwagon, too and say ‘what about me’ it’s not like this wasn’t a planned pregnancy. It’s not the result of some ill-advised roll in the hay, Mel. Appointments were made and professionals paid to do the deed, that’s my son or daughter and it shouldn’t be murdered because its mommies are having a dramatic moment.”

“Is it fair to bring a child into this environment, Brian?” Mel said, placing Gus into his car seat on the table.

Brian glared and said, “Fuck fair. Since when is life fair? Is it fair to snuff out a life just because things aren’t going your way? This kid didn’t make Lindsay cheat; is Gus up on the chopping block next? He’s a kid in this home, and boo hoo it’s not all wine and roses. Do we get rid of him now that he’s not the symbol of the happy Sapphic life?”

“How can you say that?” Mel said.

Brian sighed and visibly dialed down his anger and leaned back against the kitchen counter, before saying, “You’re angry; you’re scared and you’re vulnerable. The fact that after all you went through to get pregnant you’re even considered an abortion as an option lets me know you’re not thinking with the rational part of your brain.”

“But that’s not the same as Gus-” Mel started.

Brian cut in and said, “It is. To me it is. That’s what you get for using Catholic sperm. To me, that kid you’re carrying is already my son or daughter, even though it’s too young to be either yet.”

“I thought you weren’t a good Catholic,” Mel said.

Brian shrugged and said, “I’m not a good man either, but I’m still a man. Some things you just can’t change.”

+

“I’m sorry,” Mel said, as she put Gus down and strapped him into his carrier, “About your father. This has to be the worst time for all this to be going on.”

Brian shrugged and said, “Another thing about Catholics is we love drama at our funerals. If you could let it slip to Saint Joan that I have another dyke knocked up, with no plans to marry her either and that I’m still living in sin with my painfully young male lover, maybe we could make this a twofer, it’s already paid for.”

Mel barked out a laugh, she’d been sure she was going to start crying again and now she was laughing. Unexpectedly Brian leaned forward and gave her a one armed hug and part her wanted to slug him but part of her was just grateful for his warm, asexual presence and she said, “I’m such a fucking mess.”

“Yeah, we all are,” Brian said. Mel thought he kind of sucked at the comfort thing but he added, “Maybe it doesn’t matter. Kids are resilient and amazingly forgiving as long as you love them.”

For just a moment she let her head rest on his shoulder, feeling for the first time since she realized Lindsay was having an affair as if she wasn’t entirely alone she said, “I just don’t want to fuck up.”

“You will,” Brian said, “We all will. Lindsay certainly has. But we’re parents now, scary as that is and when we inevitably fuck up we don’t get to stomp off to our neutral corners. We have to sink down into the mess and try to make it better; find a way to fix it or find a way to live with it. Being an adult really sucks, I can say that because I’ve been one now for – how old is Gus now?”

Laughter and tears and she went with her instinct and punched him in the arm, because damn Lindsay for tying her forever to this man.

+

Justin had called off school for the rest of the week for a death in the family. After he spoke with Mrs. Hodder, he mass-texted his entourage to keep them from hounding him and headed into Kinnetik to reschedule Brian’s meetings for the rest of the week. He had a brief moment of panic wondering if there were any cultural differences between the funerals he’d attended and a Catholic funeral. Needles s to day the Catholics in the gay community weren’t really in good standing with the church. His experience with funerals were mostly of the WASP variety, Stella’s had given him insight into Judaism and he’d been such a mess when Brian died he figured Ted must have handled everything.  For one wild moment he thought of calling Debbie but they weren’t that close in this particular now. So he checked the diocese website and read up on Catholicism.

He called Ted and Emmett leaving Michael, Debbie, Mel and he guessed if Brian could get in touch with her Lindsay for Brian to notify. He contacted the funeral home and according to them there would be viewings Thursday and Friday, at two to four and six to eight and a full mass and burial on Saturday. Justin called Jack’s club, The Irish Center and Jack’s old employer to see if they had a retiree network. They did and said they would publish the notice online and on physical bulletin boards. He stated that in lieu of flowers that the family requested memoriams to the parish and gave the address. Honestly things like this were so much easier when social media had been around, or would be around. He made sure the temp staff was aware that Brian would be out of the office until Monday and requested they call him if they needed anything. Shelley offered to call Cynthia in case some of Brian’s colleagues from Ryder wanted to express condolences.

He stopped by to see Elizabeth and Bertie and let them know Jack had passed. The girls at the home all sent their best and would probably make much of Brian when he came by next Sunday. Brian called and said he was heading out to order food for the reception after the burial on Sunday. Justin mentioned stopping at Redstone, he passed on everyone’s condolences and asked if they needed a venue and if Brian knew an approximate number of guests because Bertie had offered the ‘HYP Club’ downtown.

“Sunshine, we’re not WASPs, there will be a painfully awkward spread of the traditional funeral items set out at the house. Claire will wail and Joan will look disapproving at everyone not as holy and sublime as she is. People will sit around not addressing the elephant in the room and hopefully we’ll be out of there in about an hour with no punches thrown. Although Dickard wasn’t there last time and Claire said she and he are trying to reconcile so he may be there,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Well I contacted everyone but Michael, Debbie and Mel and Lindz. Do you want me to order a coffin spray, something like ‘Beloved Husband, Father and Grandfather’ or just the pine branches and no hypocritical sayings?”

“You choose, you always were better at this than me,” Brian said,” I’m going to stop at Mel’s and let her know and then I guess I have to swing by Mom’s.”

“You want me to come?” Justin said.

Brian made a noise and Justin heard the car door slam. He finally said, “It’s probably not a good idea, last time I took Mikey. But last time she didn’t know I was queer so I want to leave him out of this; guilt by association and all. With any luck she’ll slam the door in my face and I’ll beat you home.”

Justin hoped he made the right decision but immediately regretted it when instead of using the florist his mother always used he went to one of the sisterhood three doors down from Liberty Diner. He should have remembered the name Kinney was sure to draw gossip and attention on Liberty Avenue. Alex, the owner and sole employee, made all the right noises for someone taking a funereal order but had the gleam in his eye of a queen scenting gossip. Justin hoped Brian remembered to call Michael and Debbie because every fag in Pittsburgh would know the minute he stepped out the door of the shop.

Justin ordered the coffin spray choosing an all-white monstrosity made of roses, lilies and pretty much ever white flower known to man which looked like it might be larger than a coffin, he went with the text he suggested to Brian and had it delivered to ‘Beinhauer’s’ and at Alex’s suggestion sent six peace lilies to the ‘Immaculate Heart of Mary’ on Breton as alter decorations for Saturday’s mass. He also sent a standing rack of tropical flowers, birds of paradise and such from Kinnetik. He knew his mom and grandmother would send flowers, but given how insular Jack and Joan had been and that Jack’s contemporaries seemed to be dying off and the request to donate to the parish he figured they might be the only ones at the funeral parlor. Alex’s eyes lit up for another reason when he rang the order up at almost one thousand dollars. Justin handed him the credit card with Brian’s’ name on it and got a smirk. This would be the last time he tried to give business to the community. Brian was right fags were their own worst enemies.

+

Brian knocked on his parent’s door. Joan opened it as if she’d been on the other side expecting him. She frowned and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Claire said you were falling apart. Something about all the difficult decisions like whether to serve sugar in cubes or packets sending you to a mental hospital,” Brian said. “Use packets, people think the cubes are unsanitary. Any other major problems need solved?”

He watched her jaw clench and she rolled her lips in, Brian realized his own special angry look came from Joan. Damn he needed to get a new angry look. She said, “It’s not too late Brian, you can repent. God will forgive your sins. You don’t have to be damned. You don’t have to spend eternity suffering the torments of hell.”

“Unless you’re planning to save me a seat, I think I’m fine. Hell won’t really be hell without you,” Brian said. “Listen, you hate me and I hate you and after all these years I’m actually feeling pretty good about it. I told Pop I’d take care of this-”

Joan cut in, “Richard is here; he’s taking care of everything”

“Except the bill, right?” Brian said, “Dickard never was much use except as a way to see Claire and her hell spawn got to relive the grand Kinney tradition of booze and bruises. I thought she finally got rid of him. Don’t tell me you called him, right? Because St. Joan can’t be a martyred if there isn’t someone for her to look down on, someone to endure, someone to pray for and use as an excuse. You been at the brandy yet today, Joanie?”

“I just lost my husband,” She started.

This time Brian cut her off, “you lost him a long time ago. Maybe you never had him. So you got knocked up, happens all the time. And you didn’t want to get rid of it. I can relate to that. But you used that kid to force him to marry you and then you wondered why he treated it as the trap and cage it was. I always wondered. I know you got pregnant with me on purpose to try and force him to heel but was Claire planned? At least on your part? You picked the hottest guy, with the wildest reputation and figured saddling him with a kid would settle him down. And you blame both of us kids, don’t you? We were supposed to magically turn him into the person you wanted him to be. You watch too many soap operas. Life doesn’t work like that.” Brian ran a hand back through his hair and said, “Listen, I have food being delivered here Saturday for the reception. If you don’t want it at the house say something now and we’ll set something up, maybe at the parish hall or the Irish Center.”

“Of course we’ll have it here. People would want to know what we were hiding-” Claire started.

Brian rolled his eyes and she stopped and he said, “Wouldn’t be nice if we didn’t have anything to hide? If no one was sporting bruises or was drunk of their ass? You just smile and pretend everything is fine after Saturday you never have to see me again.”

“I don’t know why you’re so willful,” she said, “I only ever wanted what was best for you.” At Brian’s snort she said, “I’m concerned about your immortal soul, your physical body is nothing if you don’t save your soul.”

Brian turned to leave and then turned back and said, “As a father, I have to tell you that an immortal soul isn’t worth anything if to keep it I have to stand by and watch while my kid gets hit.” He turned again and left, but from the look on her face, Jack hadn’t told her about Gus.

+

Claire and her kids were on the sidewalk ringing the buzzer when Justin pulled up and parked. He debated waiting until they left before getting out of the car but figured this was just part of being there and supporting Brian. He got out and locked the car with the remote and walked over to her.

“Brian said he was heading to your mom’s,” Justin said by way of greeting, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Claire gaped at him and he added, “I’m Justin and you’re Brian’s sister Claire. Is there something I can do for you?”

“You live here?” She said, “With Brian, you live with Brian.”

“Yeah,” Justin said using a smile to hide that he was kind of nervous because he’s only met her a couple times, neither of which had happened yet, and one had been with the cops when her son had accused Brian of sexual molestations and one had been when she was dying, when of course she remembered him as the one who had intimate knowledge of her brother’s accessories. And she was a crier; that he knew from Brian bitching about her.

“I was going to ask Brian for a ride, rush hour’s starting and I didn’t want to wrangle the boys on the bus,” she said.

Justin looked at the hell spawn and said, “You’ll have to give me directions, but I can drive you.”

So they piled into his car and she told him, not as he expected directions to where she lived but to Brian’s parents place.

“What’s this thing back here?” one of the boys asked.

Justin glanced in the rear view and said, “That’s for your cousin’s car seat. Gus is too little to ride without one.”

“We have a cousin?” the other boy said.

Justin looked at Claire and she said, “Daddy told me but I hadn’t mentioned it, to Mom or the boys.”

“Brian isn’t ashamed of his son, Claire,” Justin said.

She looked uncomfortable and said, “But he’s not really his son. I mean, Brian just,” and she looked back at the boys and said, “He gave him to those women.”

“Brian’s a good father, he sees Gus a couple times a week has him overnight at least one night a week and really loves him. Gus just has two moms as well,” Justin said, he refrained from pointing out how often Claire and her husband split and came back together.

+

Brian called Michael at work and let him know on the way from Mel’s to his Mom’s. Michael of course offered to leave work and go with him but Brian explained that this time his mom knew he was gay and coming with him would out Michael. And that knowing St. Joan she’d stop by the Big Q trying to get Michael to repent.

“What do you mean this time?” Michael asked.

Brian froze and figured maybe the old man kicking it had him off his game; more so than he thought. He said, “as opposed to all the other times she’s seen you, Mikey. You haven’t seen her since I told her. Or if you have it wasn’t with me, guilt by association.”

“Well she’s going to see me at the funeral,” Michael said.

Brian suggested, “Bring Tracey as your beard, maybe she won’t make the connection.”

“I’m out Brian, just not at work,” Michael said. “I don’t care if your mom knows. I still can’t believe you told them.”

Brian said, “It just wasn’t worth the effort of hiding it to spare their delicate sensibilities any more. It was too much like Joan, presenting the perfect family at mass and then putting her head in the sand, or the cooking sherry, when it wasn’t.”

So he gave Michael the times for visitation and the mass and Michael offered to call Debbie and the girls. Brian said he’d take care of the girls, that with Lindsay being away on business she might not be there.

When Brian got back to the loft it was empty and he’d just kicked off his shoes and checked his messages when the door buzzer rang. He wouldn’t tell Justin but the monitor was the best idea ever. Now that they had two cars even with his Jeep parked out front he could pretend not to be home if he didn’t want to deal with whoever was calling. Emmett was at the door, holding a large bag obviously making a condolence call like some flamboyant church lady. Brian buzzed him up without even saying anything over the intercom.

Rolling back the door he saw Emmett had bypassed the elevator and come up the stairs. Em started talking even before he was on Brian’s floor. “Sweetie I wouldn’t have stopped by without calling but I saw your Jeep. I just wanted to drop something off; it’s just sandwiches to tide you over with all the fuss you’ll be dealing with. Its shredded beef in a barbeque sauce, some Kaiser rolls and a bag of baby spinach because I know you like your salads,” Emmett said.

When he finally wound down Brian had stepped aside, he didn’t take the food from Emmett so Em plowed in and sat it on the kitchen island and asked, “How are you doing, really?”

“I knew it was coming, even before he told me in January I knew he wouldn’t live much longer, not with how he lived,” Brian said. “I always figured it would be cirrhosis of the liver that got him not cancer, well maybe Mom.”

“You don’t mean that,” Em said looking like he might cry.

“My parents are mean drunks, Honeycutt. I’m downright sensitive compared to them,” Brian said. “I’d love to give you a happy ending, tell you once he knew he was dying my old man suddenly found love in his heart for his fag kid, but he was a scared, bitter old drunk and all he wanted was one more chance. But wouldn’t we all like a do-over, a chance to go back to the turning points and make a different choice. The only thing is the thing he regretted most was his family.”

Suddenly his arms were full of a big weepy queen. Brian let Emmett squeeze the breath out of him and cry all over him just long enough for the door to open and Justin to walk in. It would be nice if he looked a little jealous but he had that look he used to get while watching puppy videos on YouTube.

“I’d like to say this isn’t what it looks like, but it is,” Brian said over Em’s shoulder to Justin.

Justin laughed then looked guilty like he shouldn’t be laughing at a time like this. He could be such a fucking WASP.

+

The look on Brian’s face as Emmett hugged him was priceless. It was the longsuffering look he got when Lindsay or Michael were weepy or clingy. He never wore it with Gus, with Gus when he hugged Brian there was more incredulous awe than exasperation.

Gus had grown up to be much like what Justin supposed Brian would have been in a loving supportive environment. A quiet thoughtful boy who saw into the heart of people and situations with empathy and insight he’d been prone to keep his thoughts to himself. Hardly a saint, he’d developed diabolical ways to hide from his little sister, surf websites and hide reading material that Lindsay had decreed off limits. But unlike his Dad, Gus had been quite comfortable being physically demonstrative of affection with all his family. Gus much to Brian’s amusement had grown up to be a hugger. Brian had always taken pride in Gus’ hugs, saying once that it was something his old man would never have stood for and that Gus doing so without the fear that Brian would push him away had been something that told him he hadn’t managed to screw up the father thing completely.

But Emmett wasn’t Gus and Brian looked about ten seconds from pushing him away and asking for a towel to dry off with. Fortunately for all of them Em stepped back and said, “I know people say it so much it doesn’t mean anything but I’m here for you, if you need anything at all you let me know, alright?”

“Thanks, Emmett. And thanks for dinner,” Brian said.

Justin grinned and gave Em a hug as he was leaving.

“That’s going to be happening all the time isn’t it?” Brian said.

Justin said, “It’s a curse being so damn lovable.”

“Fuck you very much,” Brian said.

Justin stepped up to him, kissed his cheek and hugged him while saying, “Sure, but after dinner, I’m starving.”

 


	64. Well you got with a flat, well, how `bout that?

 

“I talked to him last night,” Michael said. “He said he didn’t go in he just talked to her on the doorstep. She was always so cold. I was kind of afraid of her when we were in school. Not that she ever hit me or anything. She just looked at you, you know.”

Dave said, “Michael. I get that this is a big deal but can we talk about something other than Brian?”

“His dad died. I’m his best friend, I should be doing something,” Michael said.

Dave walked over to where Michael was sorting through his dress clothes and asked, “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” Michael said, “Just being there, in case he needs to talk or just needs to cry.”

Dave said, “He’s not alone. He has Justin.”

“Justin’s a kid. What can he possibly do? He wasn’t there. He’s never seen Brian after Jack tore into him. The bruises were just what showed, Brian’s parents they could cut him with words or even just a look. Justin just sees this hot guy who he’s sleeping with. Brian has layers. There’s a lot of damage underneath that pretty package. He needs someone who’s going to be around when it’s not fun or sexy. Justin isn’t long term,” Michael said.

Dave waited to see if Michael were done with his rant. Justin and his place in Brian’s life was a volatile area. He probably shouldn’t have used Justin’s name when trying to reassure Michael that Brian wouldn’t be alone in his time of grief. It was a rookie mistake and if his mind wasn’t on the call he’d had from his ex he wouldn’t have made it. Dave liked to think he was becoming an expert in managing the ongoing drama Michael stirred up around him. He’d learned to let him rant, talk things out with his mom a couple times a day and that as long as Michael touched base with his friends and felt as if he was still part of their lives he was pretty willing to go along with any plans Dave made. They were a good match. Michael was accommodating and nurturing and liked having someone make decisions for him.

In the beginning Dave had worried about his friendship with Brian. There was more than a bit of obvious infatuation on Michael’s part. But over time he realized Brian thought of Michael as family. Brian wasn’t just Michael’s best friend it was almost as if Michael acted paternal or rather maternal toward Brian, often whether Brian wanted it or not. It made sense in that they were both kids and Brian came from a dangerous and non- nurturing environment. Other kids brought home stray dogs or kittens, Michael brought home Brian Kinney. Once he started thinking of him like that, it didn’t make the jealously go away, but he did learn to show it less. He knew how he would feel if a lover was jealous of the time he spent with Hank so he tried to walk an understanding line when Michael would declare that he and Brian needed ‘best friend time’ and came home wasted, giggling and horny.

“Ma and Uncle Vic stopped by at the first viewing,” Michael said, “Ma said they were on separate sides of the room. Mrs. Kinney was standing right by the casket and Brian stayed at the other end of the reception area. She didn’t see them say a word to each other and she stayed the whole two hours.”

Dave resigned himself to tonight being only about Brian. He really needed to discuss what he and Janet had spoken about. Her marriage was, well not over but in a bad place and Hank needed time and attention. He was also worried that Michael was planning to spend from six to eight at the funeral home. He’d hoped they could just make an appearance and then go for dinner. However Michael seemed to think if he wasn’t there for Brian no one would be, when he wasn’t worried Lindsay or Justin would dethrone him as Brian’s official best friend.

+

HD sat on one of their dining room chairs as Emmett stood behind him and tied his tie. Em could only tie a proper knot from this direction and HD wore his suit so seldom; he’d never learned to tie one himself. They wouldn’t stay long; just make an appearance to let Brian know if he needed support they’d be there for him. Besides it was Saturday for the mass and burial they were both dreading. HD had groaned when he heard they were Catholic. Apparently he’d sat through a funeral mass or two and said they were long and smelled bad. Em had never attended a Catholic mass let alone a funeral mass before so if nothing else it would be a new experience.

Shelley was riding over to the funeral parlor with them. They had reservations at ‘Lidia's’ for eight thirty and had made them for a party of ten, in case anyone wanted to join them. Hopefully they would have time to come home and change, an hour was about all HD could stand in a suit. Michael and David were stopping and Justin would be hungry and Brian shouldn’t be given too much time to brood. Ted had spoken to Melanie and she was riding over with him, since Lindsay was out of town.

The news had been all over Liberty. Even if Justin hadn’t called him first thing Wednesday by afternoon you would have thought a celebrity passed away. Funerals of family members rarely were commented on, bad break ups, bad plastic surgery, good sex and the newest it-boy were always talked about, but until yesterday he doubted people even suspected Brian had parents; or knew that he was a local boy.

They collected Shelley, who had changed out of her work clothes, usually slacks and a blouse, into a dark blue wrap dress like something a forties femme fatal would were. Since it was just the three of them they took HD’s truck. Shelley’s car was adorable, but with both him and HD being over six feet the Cooper Mini was something they could only admire from afar.

+

The au pair had let him in and showed Ted to the living room. He offered to get Ted a drink and said Mel would be right down. The house was tidy but Ted figured babies didn’t destroy stuff until they started moving around. Other than a stray blanket with trains on it and a few pastel blocks made from cloth there wasn’t even any clutter, which given Lindsay was out of town he had expected.

Mel came down the stairs; she wore black slacks and a long sleeved dressy blouse in a black and white geometric pattern. She was doing something with her earing and talking to the au pair.

“Thanks for driving, I dread going. I never even met Brian’s parents,” Mel said, joining him on the sofa.

Ted said, “I guess part of being a couple is you have to step up when Lindsay’s out of town and fulfil her social obligations as well.”

“As much as it pains me to admit it, Brian’s been a good friend,” Mel said. “This can’t be easy for him; especially now.”

Ted looked confused and said, “What do you mean?”

“Remember when I asked you if you ever thought of having kids?” Mel said.

Ted said, “Yeah, kind of; as a single gay man I sort of pay lip service to baby talk.”

Mel snorted and said, “I hear you, that was me before Gus. Anyway, I had an operation and I can have kids, I told you that. What I didn’t tell you was I decided to try. I wanted to wait until later in the pregnancy to let anyone know, because, well I was and still am afraid I could lose it. Stress is really bad and the past couple weeks have been really stressful.”

Ted was a smart guy and didn’t need it spelled out but asked, “Lindsay isn’t away on business is she?”

“I feel like a fool. Brian is the only one who knows. She went to New York with some artist; a male artist. She left me here, pregnant, carrying Brian Kinney’s child while she is off with this guy she just met,” Mel said.

Ted said, “Jesus. She picked the absolute worst time to lay this on you.”

“Tell me about it,” Mel said. “We haven’t told anyone outside of Kal and Justin, who are part of this quirky family, either that I’m pregnant or that Lindsay is in New York until she feels we can both come at this with clearer heads. She said she was staying another week but that was before Brian’s dad died. If she stay’s true to form she’ll sweep back into town to try and out best friend Michael and show her sensitive caring side to Brian.”

Ted said, “How are you? This has to be… well I can’t imagine.”

“Angry, scared, and part of me is just numb. I don’t like not having a solution. I like having a plan and I had one when I got pregnant and Lindsay was a part of that plan and now. God! Do you know how bad it has to be when Brian is the responsible adult in any given situation?” Mel said.

+

Brian looked impeccable as always. He was wearing the same gunmetal gray suit from the afternoon viewing, with a gray shirt and gray tie. Justin wore navy with a white shirt and navy tie. Black was too severe and anyway he wasn’t really in mourning. Walking in with Brian had been an experience. Justin had offered to take a separate car if Brian didn’t want to arrive with him. It had earned him a glare from Brian. They took the BMW and Brian drove.

Justin may still be cursing the gossipy little queen at the florist but say what you will the man knew his flowers. Since the coffin was open, the spray was inside the open lid and would be on top for the mass. It filled the whole lid of the coffin and the ribbon was like a banner. Kinnetik’s wasn’t the only flowers there, there was an array from the company he retired from, his club, a bowling league and from the GLC which was probably what had Joan glaring at them both. Justin was willing to bet some bitter fag or angry dyke at the GLC thought sending it would out Brian to his family. The Taylor Family had sent an arrangement and Joan Kinney would probably never figure out who Elizabeth Corcoran or Bertie Kaufmann were but there was an arrangement from them as well, and a separated one just signed ‘The Girls at Redstone’. Which given Jack’s reputation with the ladies probably had her thinking he’d been cruising the old folks’ home.

Even during the day, when Justin figured it would be mostly Joan’s friends from church who didn’t work stopping the locals who stopped greeted Brian more enthusiastically than Joan. Claire seemed to be a nonentity and if she had social circles none were in evidence. Most of the guys from Jack’s club and his bowling buddies were polite and offered Joan their condolences but afterwards they all made a beeline to Brian to chat before leaving and ignored Claire and her husband. The few times Brian stopped by the club to pay off his dad’s bar tab apparently outnumbered the times Joan had joined him for the evening.

Four members of Stella’s red hat crew, minus the red hats, or they’d left them in the car, stopped in on their way back from a luncheon. They, of course, went straight to Brian and fussed over him. Justin spent most of his time talking to Debbie and Vic, well more to Vic since Debbie actually tried to engage Joan in conversation.

So now they were going back, and the evening hours would surely have more visitors. There had been a lack of neighbors and Justin figured they were all just at work, but Brian had said ‘you don’t get close to neighbors when you have secrets to hide’. Once again they arrived just before the viewing hours. Justin did not envy the funeral director, not that it was a profession he ever considered, and figured the Kinney detente was par for the course in many families. Joan would have loved to bar Brian but was all too aware he’d footed the bill. The funeral director, Bill, was calm and professional and apparently had no fear of burning in hell. He soothed Claire’s near constant weeping, was impervious to Joan’s glare and cordial to both Dickard, er Richard and Brian.

The hell spawn seemed more subdued than they had been earlier. Claire’s husband had glared when they got out of their chairs and they meekly sat back down. Brian and Claire were speaking in glances and Justin figured Brian was trying to convey scared kids were not the same as well-behaved kids. While Claire was trying to absolve herself using her mother’s ‘ but he’s my husband’ excuse. Once the family had been introduced only the kids and Claire had spoken to Justin at the earlier viewing. Now Brian took Claire by the elbow and ushered her into a private lounge set up for the family to compose themselves.

Justin had been jumping with nerves all day when he realized this was the same funeral home that Brian had been laid out in. It had been redecorated over the last or rather next fifteen years but the floor plan was the same. It was in that back lounge he’d sequestered himself in the powder room to try and compose himself when he lost Brian. For the hundredth time that day he jerked his thoughts away from the grief and memory of how strong Gus had tried to be for his loved ones. And then it was six, the front door was unlocked and Brian and Claire were still in the back. Joan looked like she wanted to charge back there but Michael and David were first though the door and after looking around for Brian; Michael approached Joan to offer his condolences.

As soon as he could politely disengage himself, Michael came over and asked, “Where’s Brian?”

“I think he’s killing Claire, remember if the cops ask he was with us the whole time,” Justin said.

Michael looked confused but didn’t ask and soon Brian and Claire came out of the back. Claire going straight to her mother to be chastised for not being there when the doors opened and Brian coming over and shaking Dave’s had as he offered condolences.

Michael asked, “Are you okay?”

Brian shrugged and said, “You know how it was Mikey, there’s a lot of baggage there. Now that St. Joan doesn’t have the old man to hound and I’m out of the picture a lot of flak is falling on Claire. As you can see Dickard’s back; that’s some of St. Joan’s work. The church recognizes divorce, you can receive communion; you just can’t remarry in the Catholic Church if you’re divorced. But Joan is steering Claire down the same martyred to misery path she walked. Why have safe happy lives separately when you could be together making life hell on Earth for each other and the kids?”

Emmett and HD came in. HD could not have looked less comfortable if his suit had been made of burlap. There was a bonsai tree from Davis Contracting on one of the tables near an enlarged picture of Jack and the kids, Claire a gangly tweenie and Brian about Molly’s age. Emmett, like David, dropped an envelope into the parish box.

Marty Ryder had sent an arrangement and Justin figured Cynthia had called him. The art twins, one of whom was married and brought a spouse stopped in and after shaking Brian’s hand and offering condolences stopped to talk with Shelley. Even Bob Peterson stopped in, who was still with Vanguard and joined his old colleagues for a chat, and probably to scope out the competition.

Ted arrived with Mel, receiving more approving looks from Joan as they stopped to offer sympathy probably because she thought they were a hetro couple. But Justin noticed that while they were speaking Joan froze up and started glaring poison at Mel, so they must have set her straight. Or they just answered that they were friends of Brian.

After offering his condolences to Brian, Ted joined the Kinnetik employees for a time to chat. Mel was the first of their group to sit and Dave joined her at one of the conversational groupings of furniture. Emmett suggested they all have dinner afterwards at ‘Lidia's’ and he and HD were the first to leave, taking Shelley with them. Mel and Ted agreed to meet there as well. Dave looked pained but Michael accepted without consulting him.

It took forever for eight o’clock to come around and Justin was just counting the hours until Jack was in the ground and he could take Brian back from his birth family. Mel and Ted left at about seven thirty and said they’d go get in line for a table. Brian said to check under Davis or Honeycutt because Emmett was organized and would have made reservations.

At the converted warehouse that ‘Lidia's’ was in parking was easy for a Thursday night in The Strip. Mel and Ted were at the large curved bar but HD and Emmett weren’t there yet. Michael and David came in with them having followed in their car. Brian was checking his messages while they waited for their table and Emmett swept in and spoke with the hostess. HD had changed into jeans and a sweater and ordered drinks for himself and Emmett. They were soon seated at a large round table in a corner by the windows. It had been set for ten but the staff swept the additional place settings away and removed two of the chairs. It would have been a tight fit for ten but was well suited for eight.

Brian snagged whom Justin thought was the manager on the way to the table. Probably to arranging to pay the check for the table; judging by how he’d always done things with the family. Once everyone ordered, Justin ordered two bottles of red, two of white and one non-alcoholic sparkling wine for the table.

Dinner was nice. They weren’t at a point yet where it was routine. In fact, this was probably the first time they’d all eaten out together. They all socialized in different ways and in various groups but this was a little grown up for them yet. Lindsay was a noticed absence and Deb and Vic really should be there, but Deb was working the late shift and Vic was home with Hunter, although they’d certainly be welcome. Maybe tomorrow they should invite them all to ‘The Original Fish Market’ at the Doubletree. He’d mention it to Brian, he was sure Emmett would take care of contacting everyone and making the reservations if they asked him.

The only bombshell dropped during dinner was when Mel covered her wine glass with her hand and said, “I’m pregnant,” to the waiter. She’d apparently warned Ted or he just had a great poker face. The waiter simply poured her the non-alcoholic and moved on but Em was all a glow and Michael asked point blank how.

“The same way Lindsay got pregnant, I went to the fertility clinic and was inseminated,” Mel said.

Michael said, “But Brian fathered Lindsay’s child.”

“Mine too,” Mel said.

Justin couldn’t tell if Brian was grateful for her pulling the talk away from his family and his feelings or if he wished she’d have warned him he was going to be the star of the baby making circus.

Michael said, “Brian? But you and Mel don’t even like each other.”

“Mikey, we didn’t actually have sex. And I wouldn’t have agreed to father Gus if I didn’t think Mel would make a good mom. She already has one of my kids, with which she is doing a great job, why wouldn’t I let her have another?” Brian said.

Mel didn’t out Lindsay when asked if she was coming back from her trip for the funeral. Brian changed the subject and pointedly asked Dave how his own son was. Dave volunteered his ex’s marriage was hitting a rocky patch and he was worried about Hank. When dinner was over and the check settled, Dave practically had to drag Michael away when Brian and Mel stepped away from the table together to talk. Justin stopped HD and Emmett as they were leaving and asked if he could call Emmett tomorrow once he checked with Brian and have him round up the gang and Vic and Debbie and make arrangements for dinner the next night. Emmett was of course willing and seemed relieved to have something he could do for Brian.

After Em and HD left Brian and Mel joined Justin and Ted and updated them. Apparently one of Brian’s voicemails was from Lindsay. She had left a message for Mel as well but Mel hadn’t checked. She was flying in from New York in the morning and would see him at the funeral home. Mel was pissed she expected her to pick her up at the airport and really didn’t want to miss work to do it. Justin said he would get her since he was off anyway. The looks Mel and Brian shot him were near identical and he said, “What? I’m highly skilled in WASPfu. I can kill her with kindness no matter how angry I get, neither of you have that particular skill set. Let me know if you want me to indulge her campaign to not talk about it or want me to cuttingly remind her of just what she’s done to the family.”

Justin let them know he’d talked to Em about arranging dinner the next night. Brian was all for it and suggested Mel invite Kal and let him bring Gus, probably more to keep Lindsay from using Gus as a shield than because he thought Gus would enjoy it. They made their goodbyes and separated.

Once back at the loft, Justin attacked Brian with a desperate hungry need. Brian eagerly and willingly indulged him and afterward they fell asleep clinging to each other. It was much later that Brian woke him, with a concerned look as he cupped his face. Justin didn’t even realize he’d been sobbing in his sleep until Brian thumb swept the tears off his cheek. That was when Justin confessed ‘Beinhauer’s’ was the same funeral home Brian had been laid out in, that the same people, or nearly the same had been offering him sympathy or crying over Brian. Brian cradled him in his arms and whispered, “I’m here; I’m here. We’re together. It never happened. It was just a bad dream.”

“You don’t believe in self-delusion,” Justin said his throat sore from apparently choking back sobs in his sleep.

Brian said, “Let’s just say the past year has been a real lesson on reshaping reality.”

 


	65. Well, babies, don't you panic.

 

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Justin said over coffee and toast at the kitchen counter the next morning.

Brian recognized the particular brooding look, it had waned since Justin’s birthday had come and gone and they hadn’t woken up even younger or just hadn’t woken up. But that look said Justin was, after his dream or whatever it had been last night, pondering the underpinnings of the universe or contemplating a divine intelligence behind all this. Brian said, “What have you come up with?”

“Have you considered that we might not be the only ones?” Justin said.

Brian asked, “What are we talking about?” Because no, no he hadn’t and surely Justin didn’t mean that there were others who suddenly found themselves over fifteen years in the past.

“Have you considered that maybe Ted or Em or Michael, might be from our time and also gotten a do over?” Justin said.

Brian said, “No. I mean; now that you brought it up in a world with billions of people the odds that just you and me got some sort of rewind are – well I can’t wrap my mind around it. But I think I can say with certainty that Ted, Emmett and Mikey are the original nonrepeating versions.”

“What makes you so sure?” Justin asked.

Brian was surprised Justin had to ask but gathered his thoughts and said, “Ted, our Ted, was a recovered addict. He wouldn’t have started drinking or ODed again. Emmett, is too soft-hearted to let Ted OD again and would have either stopped it or been there and dragged him to the hospital. And Dave never so much as contacted Michael once they broke up, why even start a relationship again that was doomed to fail.”

“What about Mel?” Justin said.

Brian asked, “Because we get along better? No, she was pure Melanie, circa 2000 when I got here. The fact that we’re get along better now is all on me not engaging, giving in to her on anything but the important points and intentionally not shutting her out. At twenty eight I was an asshole and I would purposefully push her buttons just because I could, I didn’t stop overnight but I knew it would be easier when Gus got here if we weren’t still trying to prove which of us had the biggest dick.”

“And,” Brian added, “If she had been suddenly pushed back don’t you think she’d have said something when she noticed the change in us; when we moved in together? Don’t you think if anyone we knew from then, if they suddenly were someone from now, would see the changes in how we are with each other and be knocking on our door?”

“I know I should just let this go. That I should be grateful every day that you’re here and I’m here and we have extra time,” Justin said. “I just can’t shake the feeling of how fragile this all is.”

Brian pulled him close and said, “Sunshine, it always was fragile. That’s life. The only way we lived it is in ignorance. It’s the only way anyone can get out of bed every day and get on with life. We’re just as in the dark as we were the first time. We may be a little older and hopefully a little wiser, but just because we’ve been here before doesn’t mean we have a map. That’s an illusion.”

“So we’re lost and holding hands?” Justin said.

Brian smiled and said, “Weren’t we always?”

+

Dave had finally been able to broach a subject that wasn’t Brian Kinney on the way home from the restaurant. When he suggested Hank coming to spend the summer with them Michael had been thrown for a loop. He pointed out that with work, neither of them would be home during the day and he worried that in a strange town it would be hard on Hank. Dave had mentioned finding a summer program and hiring a teenager to drive him to and from it as well as see he wasn’t alone until they were home from work. Maybe one of the girls that hung out with Hunter.

He had to admit he was curious as to if Michael would be willing to share the time and attention with Hank on a regular basis. He’d been wonderful with him when Hank visited and really devoted much more time to him than Dave expected but weeks of that could be draining and would cut into their social lives.

Michael mentioned Vic and his mom were already watching one kid and if they needed a babysitter for an evening or a night Debbie would be more than happy to play grandma. It was the use of the word grandma that got Dave. Michael was so willing to open his heart and his family. He guessed that Brian was just an example that once Michael let someone in he really seemed to hang on for the long haul.

He’d been planning to see if Michael wanted to head to Italy that summer since he’d enjoyed Paris so much. Maybe once Hank was back with his mom they’d head over in the fall. Summers were pretty hot in the Mediterranean anyway.

+

Brian made a liar out of Justin and headed into the office in the morning. They agreed to meet for lunch at the loft before heading over to the funeral home and Justin braved traffic out to the airport. He got the message both Brian and Mel were sending to Lindsay, it was ‘life has gone on while you were you were off exploring your bisexuality’ but he was sure this would throw up all her defenses.

He parked in the short term lot, regardless of the ridiculous cost since he was likely to be hauling Lindsay’s luggage he gladly spent it. He checked arrival times and headed to baggage. He found Lindsay and the rest of her flight all staring at the empty carousel as none of the luggage had poured out yet.

“Welcome home,” he greeted her.

Lindsay turned and said, “Justin? What are you doing here?”

“Mel had court and Brian had to catch up on all he’s been letting slide arranging the details for the funeral so I volunteered to pick you up,” Justin said.

A buzzer sounded and the carousel started moving, and he said, “Just let me know which ones are yours and I’ll grab them.”

Lindsay had two suitcases in addition to her carry on and unless he missed his guess these were a set her parents had got her when she went away to college. Typical of the country club culture, matching, well-made and understated, they probably cost a small fortune.

With one in each hand he guided her out to short term parking and loaded her luggage in the back of the sports wagon. Apparently Lindsay was in the dark about the BMW because she asked, “Whose car is this?”

“Mine,” Justin said, “I got it for my eighteenth,” again omitting it was from Brian because Lindsay and Michael had jealous streaks a mile wide and he was trying to keep the peace; or at least keep any conflict focused on Lindsay’s relationship woes, not his and Brian’s spending choices. So he changed the subject by asking, “How was your trip?” Realizing after he asked that that it was no less volatile than her baby-Daddy showering him with gifts.

“Very productive,” she said, obviously thinking he was in the dark about what was going on.

Peace or not, Justin decided he needed to dissuade her of that notion right away. He held her door for her and after making sure she was in safely, circled around and got in the driver’s side. After starting the car and heading for the exit, he said, “Lindsay, I would appreciate, if in the future you didn’t use me as a cover for anything you don’t feel you can tell Mel or Brian about. It puts me in a very awkward position.”

He was at the gate to the lot swiping his card by the time she gathered her thoughts and said, “I don’t know what you’re implying”

“Lindsay, only Brian and I know that you told Mel you were on business for me in New York when you were off with Sam Auerbach test driving a stick shift,” Justin said. “Well, I think Kal suspects something but you know how discrete he is.”

Lindsay’s early flight meant that they would be sitting in traffic on Greentree hill for an hour at least so she better just drop her offended virgin act. “Justin,” she said primly, “While I do appreciate you coming to pick me up this really isn’t any of your business.”

“Here’s the deal Lindz,” Justin said. “Brian, he’s mine. There is not another woman on this planet who could have talked him into becoming a father. I’ll admit it, you’re good. But after the hell he lived through growing up, you have to realize that you alone were not the deciding factor in him saying yes in regard to fathering your child. It was the picture you painted of two loving mothers showering a kid with attention and approval that had him thinking he could trust his kid to you. You promised him a stable home life for Gus. Gus isn’t even six months old and you left him for some guy.”

“I didn’t leave, I was only supposed to be gone a week. It was just a business trip,” Lindsay said.

Justin countered, “A business trip where Mel can’t know the name of the hotel you were at because you were staying with Auerbach? A business trip where you didn’t return calls, not knowing if your child was safe and healthy? A business trip where you said you went for me, and I had no knowledge of; like I said, don’t use me as a cover, it never even occurred to me to lie to Mel. Brian thought you were dead or unconscious when you didn’t call him back. He said, ‘call me about Gus’ and it was almost a week before you called him back.”

“I spoke to Mel-” she started.

Justin interrupted, “Saturday, right. When she called Auerbach and he gave the phone to you. That’s still three days, did you even get a chance to ask about Gus, because Lindz he was staying with us at the time.”

“Why would he be staying with you?” she said.

Justin since they weren’t moving anyway put the car in park and looked at her and said, “We’re family. Brian is his father. Just because you were willing to leave it all on Mel’s shoulders while you were off storming the art world with your sugar daddy didn’t mean Brian and I wouldn’t be there for her or for Gus.”

“He’s not my sugar daddy. Sam has great connections; he could really help you out Justin-” she started.

Justin snorted and said, “No thank you. Besides, I don’t have a vagina, never really wanted one, and he’s old and hairy. And I have Brian fucking Kinney, thank you very much; Sam Auerbach is a step down, several steps actually.”

“You seem to know a lot about him,” Lindsay said, suspiciously.

Justin said, “I know he’s not a philanthropist and he doesn’t just help out anyone, who’s not a curvy blonde. If you think Mel or Brian will buy you were in New York making connections or hawking your clients, you’re deluded. Maybe if he was an unknown, but Auerbach’s rep in the art community is sketchy when it comes to beautiful women and while Mel was tracking you down she surely got an earful from multiple sources. Besides I hear she called him pretty early and all he had to do to give you his phone was roll over in bed. This has been really hard on Mel. Brian’s tried to be there for her. You have the worst timing Lindz. If she loses this baby because of stress I don’t know if either of them will be able to forgive you.”

Lindsay had turned on the tears and while normally crying women melted Justin like snow in July. Her tears just felt a bit too contrived. He shifted out of park and pulled up a car length and contemplated cutting though one of the vast office parks and taking one of the back ways along the river that came out by ‘Station Square’. He was pretty sure he remembered one of the detours popular in construction season. He let her cry for another five minutes, she looked out the window and he gave her time to brood or compose herself. Finally when the tears had slowed he said, “You’ve been with Mel six years and you’ve been friends with Brian ten, knowing them as well as you do, how did you think this was going to play out? They’re not WASPs they don’t politely agree to not talk about stuff. Mel is a lawyer because the way she is most comfortable dealing with things is by arguing them out, and Brian, dear God, if you know Brian half as well as you claim to, can you really see him keeping up appearances for proprietary sake?”

“Does everyone know?” Lindsay asked.

Justin said, “Brian and I have kept a lid on it, confirming the business trip story to everyone. I don’t know if Mel has talked it out with any of her friends. I kind of hope she has someone to vent to besides Brian because we both know how insensitive he can be. She outed the pregnancy to the gang at dinner last night. So far the only person I’ve let in on that is Daphne. I don’t think Brian had even confided that to Michael, who was, understandably, feeling left out because of it.”

“I’ve made a real mess of things,” Lindsay said.

Justin sighed and said, “Yeah, this is not something you can ignore. Gus missed you, he would be looking around and we knew he was looking for you. It broke my heart. But he’s okay; in the long run he won’t remember you were gone. Are you back? Really back? Is this thing with Auerbach serious and are you planning to take off again? Because that baby that Mel’s carrying is your son or daughter too. That’s Gus’ family.”

“I can’t discuss this with you Justin,” she said.

Justin switched lanes and moved up. He said, “fair enough. But I’m a hell of a lot easier to talk to than Brian. If you need a buffer, well I’m trying to be one. Because we’re both aware of the rage of Kinney and you know that the first time Brian gets you alone without Gus he’s not going to be dissuaded by you’re not wanting to talk about it and there will be shouting.”

“You’re eighteen, you couldn’t possibly understand,” Lindsay said.

Justin said, “Right, because I’ve never met a charismatic man who could turn my whole world upside down. You’re right, though. When I met Brian and he virtually swept me off my feet I wasn’t in a relationship and didn’t have a kid at home. For me, just going for it and moving in and building a life with him based on the dizzying prospect of just what could be, only impacted me. The first thing Mel is going to ask and probably Brian too is ‘what were you thinking’ and when they ask that what they’re really asking is: what are you planning now? Is this guy part of your life a part of their lives and a part of Gus’ life or was this just a fling?”

“Sam really was helping me get a foot into the art world,” Lindsay said. “I made important connections though him.”

“Is he leaving his wife?” Justin asked.

Lindsay bit her lip and teared up and Justin was almost glad for them barely moving and she said, “Justin I didn’t go to New York to intentionally have an affair.”

Lindsay spent the rest of the ride trying to justify how she did this all for her career or her clients, or even him. She’d met Sam about a month ago and he’d obviously been taken with her. Justin didn’t say that he sounded like a typical hetro horndog who wanted to bag a dyke. He’d been completely on the outside of this cockup when it happed the first time three years from now. He listened and forcibly held his tongue. She sounded like she was home for good or at least she wasn’t telling him she was planning to run off with Sam.

Justin also didn’t tell her that she’d pretty much tanked her reputation in the art world. Sam Auerbach might not have the rep he had in the future yet, but it was close. All those people he introduced Lindsay to were making assumptions that she was just another of his conquests as opposed to representing any legitimate clients. If Justin gave a damn about his career he wouldn’t want his name associated with Lindsay’s after that. Lucky for her he really didn’t long for any gallery openings or any contacts that would require him being anywhere that Brian wasn’t. From what Mel had been told by the local gallery owners even the Pittsburgh art community pretty much thought Lindsay was trying to sleep her way into representing Sam.

He parked around the back of the house and hauled Lindsay’s suitcases in for her. They were both surprised to find Debbie there and Gus crying. It hit Justin that it was Friday morning and Kal had a morning tutoring session on Fridays. Mel must have asked Debbie to watch Gus or maybe Brian did. Lindsay picked him up as Debbie said, “I think he’s hungry but all I could find was formula. You don’t even have cereal.”

“He’s not on solids yet,” Justin said, “we’re waiting until he’s six months. He’s usually a good eater,” he had to raise his voice as Gus cried louder and Gus heard him and started reaching out for him.

Lindsay glared at him and said, “We?”

“Kal said he never puts them on solids until at least six months, Mel and Brian bowed to his expertise. Do you want me to take him?” Justin said watching the big tears Gus was crying and yeah he really wanted to snatch him out of her hands because the little guy hadn’t seen her in almost two weeks and they had left him with Debbie who he’d seen before but not on a regular basis, those weren’t cranky tears they were scared tears.

Lindsay reluctantly handed him over and Gus blinked at him and quieted but tears still fell as he said, “Da.”

“Daddy isn’t here buddy, are you hungry?” Justin asked. Debbie handed Justin the bottle and he held it up and shook it in front of Gus and said, “Come on Gus, you like this stuff. You want to try it?”

Gus reached toward the bottle and Justin settled at the kitchen table and guided it to him. Gus quieted down and started drinking and Justin said, “I think he was just scared. Was he asleep when Kal left?”

“Yeah, sound asleep, he just work up about ten minutes ago and he’s been crying ever since,” Debbie said.

Justin said to Gus while he drank, “You know Debbie. She’s not a stranger. You’ve seen her before you just don’t remember. It’s because she’s not wearing her vest, I bet you remember that you always try to grab it.”

Lindsay was crying silently this time and whispered, “He’s forgotten me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Debbie said, “Babies always know their mothers.”

Justin said nothing. Brian was right two weeks to Gus was the equivalent of a three year chunk of Lindsay’s life. If someone was out of her life for three years she might not recognize them right off the bat either. He watched Gus drink and he should be heading back to the loft, but he really didn’t want to leave if he was the only one Gus recognized. Kal was normally back by noon on Fridays.

When Gus finished Justin burped him and then stood up and walked him over to Lindsay. He said, “See Mommy? That’s Mommy. Do you remember Mommy?”

Gus blinked at Lindsay but there were no tears. He kind of pointed at her and Justin said, “That’s right that’s Mommy.”

“Da,” Gus said.

“Daddy is at work, Mama is at work, Mommy is here with Gus,” Justin said.

“Da,” Gus said.

Debbie laughed and said, “What is it about Brian that makes him the center of everyone’s world?”

“Da, Da, Da, Da,” Gus said with a big toothless grin.

“He wasn’t talking this much when I left,” Lindsay said.

Justin offered, “He’s started rolling over by himself and he does this thing where I think he’s trying to get ready to crawl only he’s like a turtle that’s flipped over and can’t reach the floor with its feet; only his tummy keeps him from getting any traction and his legs and arms move in midair. It really cracks Brian up.”

“I’ve missed so much of his life,” Lindsay said.

Debbie said, “Don’t blink, honey. Before you know it he’ll be in school and you’ll only be an afterthought.”

In Justin’s opinion Debbie was only making things worse but then Debbie though Lindsay and Mel were fine and that Lindsay had been away on business. Gus finally reached out to Lindsay and they made the transfer. He asked Lindsay if she was okay and if he could make her some tea or something. She said she was fine and he really couldn’t invite himself to chaperone her with Gus just in case Gus got pissy again. So he offered Debbie a ride home and they left.

If Debbie hadn’t been with him he would have called Brian immediately but as she was he pulled onto Penn Avenue and knew it was only about three miles or so to either the diner or Debbie’s place. She said, “Nice car. Is it your parent’s?”

“No, it’s mine. It was a birthday present,” Justin said.

Debbie said, “It’s good that you’re on better terms with them. Your mom seems like she’s really trying.”

“Yeah, she had Brian and I over to dinner this week, before Jack died,” Justin said, “I just don’t like putting her in the middle between Dad and me. It’s not fair to her.”

“Well your dad must be coming around if they got you a car,” Debbie said.

Justin said, “They got me a really nice set of paint brushes; Brian got me the car.”

“It’s a BMW,” Debbie said.

Justin said, “It has one of the highest safety ratings and I drive his kid around,” and he’s a label queen, Justin added silently to himself.

Justin was thankful they were almost to Debbie’s house and asked if she and Vic would be joining them for dinner after the evening viewing. Debbie offered to cook and Justin said they were going to the Fish Market. He called Em after he dropped her, on the way to the loft, and confirmed dinner was on and that Lindsay was back but he didn’t know if she would make it or not. Em said he would take care of everything and they wrapped the call as he parked behind Brian’s jeep.

For lunch they finished off Em’s shredded barbeque beef while Justin relayed play-by-play the ride with Lindsay; and Gus’ reaction to the strange mommy woman. It really seemed to bother Brian that Gus woke up with Debbie and was scared but Justin assured him that Gus would have no lifelong trauma from one startling stranger being there instead of Kal or Mel. They laid around until one thirty not acknowledging that they were basically comforting each other and then got dressed and headed to the funeral home.

The afternoon viewing went much the same as the day before, Richard wasn’t there and the boys were running wild. They kept eyeing Brian like he’d make them sit with their hands on their heads and Justin had laughed out loud when Brian told him that story. There were additional flower arrangements one from ‘The St. James GSA’ and one from Cynthia Moore. Justin made a mental note to kill Daphne. Claire sat with Justin for a while and just told him about her father or at least how she remembered him or wanted to remember him. She’d apparently been helping her mom get the house ready for company in the mornings and had come across his drawings of Brian and Gus and the photos he’d given Jack. He told her he’d only met him the one time and mostly just listened.

Brian and he went home, got naked, had sex and then took a long hot shower in the two hour break between viewings. Justin didn’t want to jinx it but they’d made it half way. Two more hours tonight and then the funeral mass, burial and reception tomorrow. They redressed, Brian was in a light gray suit today with a white shirt and grey and maroon tie and Justin was wearing his navy with a dark gold shirt and matching tie.

The evening viewing started with Daphne and the girls stopping in, signing the guest book and offering Brian their heartfelt sympathy. Daphne took Justin aside to see if he needed anything. They made a date to go for ice cream after school on Monday and he promised to catch her up on everything. Richard, Claire’s on again off again husband, was back on and he kids were quiet and sullen. Todd and Lorraine stopped in with Tracey and Chris, Justin got the impression it was a double date and they just added the stop at the funeral home before heading out to their real destination. Joan Kinney had a similar reaction to interracial couples as she did to gay ones judging by the way she was eyeing Chris and Tracey.

Justin’s mother and grandmother arrived together, looking impeccable and WASPy. He overheard Elizabeth telling Joan what a wonderful boy she had. They didn’t stay long and his grandmother winked at him when she had her back to Brian’s mother. Brian had mentioned his grandmother called and asked if it would create problems if she stopped in, Brian offered to send a car for her and Bertie and invited them to dinner. Apparently, Justin’s mom was standing in for Bertie as he was under the weather.

Lindsay and Mel arrived together with Gus at about seven thirty. Mel handed Gus off to Justin and thanked him for getting Lindsay at the airport. Justin got the message that they would be playing the happy couple in front of everyone tonight but that Mel was still pissed as hell. Lindsay was making nice with Brian and then went to offer condolences to his mother when Gus caught sight of Brian and started making grabby motions and yelling, “Da, Da, Da,” at the top of his lungs.

Brian smiled and reached out to take him saying, “Look at you Sonny boy. Come here.”

Claire came over to meet her nephew and said, “Oh Brian, he looks just like you.”

Gus noticed her attention and turned his face into Brian’s chest. “He’s getting shy,” Brian said. “It’s just a stage.”

“Give him five minutes and he’ll be flirting with you,” Mel said, “he gets that from his dad.” Gus reached for her and Mel laughed and said, “Fickled; he gets that from his mom.”

Justin felt his eyes widen and Brian looked at him as he handed Gus back to Mel. Maybe they didn’t intend to play the happy couple, or maybe just not in front of Brian and Justin.

Cynthia stopped in just before closing and Brian had a brief private talk with her. Justin had a feeling he was going to bring her on before the headquarters was ready because yeah, Brian loved to work but the minutia of handling the back office stuff was draining his energy. Brian was more of a big picture guy. He would chart the course but he was used to having minions to handle the details.

Gus rode with them to the restaurant. Justin wondered if Mel was intending to give Lindsay a piece of her mind on the ride over. Lindsay wouldn’t have wanted to argue in front of Kal or Gus. As it crossed his mind Brian said, “Should we offer to take Gus tonight?”

“Yeah, but not in front of the others; Lindsay just got back and it would be weird for her not to want to spend time with him,” Justin said.

Brian said, “Maybe she’s looking to get laid. How many days was I gone before you were hopping a plane for a booty call?”

“Please never use the phrase booty call again,” Justin said with a grin.

‘The Original Fish Market’ was right off of Grant in the Doubletree Hotel, it was considered the best sushi in town and a popular stop preconcert or game night. Fortunately by the time the viewing was over most of the concerts, shows and games had started and Emmett had pull with the manager. Instead of one long narrow table they had put had put six tables, two deep and three long, which would have seated twenty tightly but held fourteen quite comfortably. In addition to the previous night’s crew, Ted was bring a plus one as well as Lindsay, Debbie and Vic. Hunter had been left home with instructions he was not to have young ladies in his room when they weren’t there.

Brian and Justin walked in from the parking garage with Lindsay and Mel. Lindsay’s eyes were suspiciously bright and Mel was clenching her jaw something fierce but you wouldn’t know it unless you were looking for it. In the hotel lobby before joining the others, Brian offered to keep Gus for the night if they needed time to talk or as he put it whatever.

“I don’t think there’s going to be much whatever,” Mel snapped and then added softer, “But thanks. We’ll let you know, okay?”

“Sure,” Brian said, glancing down at the blanket covered car seat and saying, “He’s just going to sleep the whole time anyway.”

The second was in response to Lindsay’s outraged look as if even thinking about separating her from her baby after not seeing him of so long was inconceivable.

Debbie and Vic were seated at the bar and had been introduced to Elizabeth by Jennifer. As they walked in all the unfamiliar voices must have woken Gus, and well Debbie was loud. He started fussing and Brian sat the carrier on one of the high table near the bar and uncovered him. He leaned in and kissed his head before unstrapped him from his seat and lifted him up so he could see who all was around him and make sense of the voices. Gus caught sight of Elizabeth and gave a gaping grin. She said, “There’s my angel. Who’s the good boy?”

Gus gurgled and reached for her or tried to Brian handed him off and he stared to gurgle at her and make repetitive ba, da and ga sounds. Debbie looked surprised and said, “He knows you.”

“My three boys come to see me almost every Sunday,” Elizabeth said, shooting a look at Jennifer that said you don’t visit enough.

Lindsay looked angry but Justin couldn’t tell if it was because Gus was attached to other people or because she wasn’t automatically ranked higher by Gus due to her being the mommy. He was hoping the anger was at him or Brian and not at Gus. Gus couldn’t help who seemed familiar to him. The last time through, with no help and no job Lindsay had been the center of Gus’ world, even if at the expense of her relationship with Mel. But now Kal spent as many hours as the center of his attention as she did and Brian and Mel were close seconds. Gus hadn’t been close to any of his grandparents the first time through; even Debbie had shown a preference for JR and hadn’t spent much time with Gus until JR was part of the family. Justin thought having his grandmother in his life longer had just been a benefit to him, and his mother but now he realized Bertie and Elizabeth did treat Gus just like one of their own grandkids; or great grandkids.

“You have a beautiful son, Brian,” his mom offered, either not picking up on the tension or just refusing to acknowledge it.

Ted arrived with Kevin and Michael with David; they either came together or met up on the way from the parking garage. Emmett and HD crossed over from another part of the restaurant and Justin figured Emmett really had been taking care of all the details. He knew Brian had called the manager before heading to the second viewing to make sure the meal was billed to him alone. A high chair was already at one corner of the table and Lindsay made a beeline for the seat next to it. Brian lifted and eyebrow and had some sort of silent communication with Mel who took the seat on the corner on Gus’ other side. Brian held a chair for Elizabeth after she handed Gus to Mel who put him in the high chair and Justin did the same for his mom. Debbie was already seated by that time but shot Michael a look as if he should have done the same. Brian inquired about Bertie and Elizabeth assured him it was nothing saying Redstone was like a school, any little cold got passed around the whole community. In true WASP fashion Elizabeth engaged Vic, seated on her right in a polite chat about the successful cookie sale Daphne told her he organized.

Justin could barely hide a grin because Jennifer may have embraced Debbie’s attitudes last time but his mother had been Jane Goodall among the apes, she never tried to contaminate the culture by imposing her own. This time Justin’s, well what Debbie would refer to as snooty upbringing, was invading the Liberty Avenue crew.

This was apparently the first time Kevin, Ted’s date, had met HD and Emmett but it appeared that he knew Dave and Michael. Emmett was saying they must come over for a home cooked meal. Justin chimed in that Emmett’s beef barbeque was awesome.

They had barely perused their menus when a commotion or sound of awe had most of them turning toward the sushi bar. Four waiters carried an enormous banquet style sushi boat over to their table.

“What the fuck is that?” Debbie asked.

Justin said, “Oh Em, what a great idea; I’m starving. But what are the rest of you having?”

“I’d say he’s joking but I’ve seen him eat,” Jennifer said, once she recovered from Debbie dropping the F-bomb at the table.

“Good choice, Honeycutt,” Brian said, “Now we won’t waste away before we can order.”

“I thought it was apropos,” Emmett said, “and don’t call me Honeycutt.”

Michael said to Debbie, “its raw fish, Ma.”

“Actually not all of its raw,” David added. “Just ask the waiter if you want to know which ones are cooked.”

Michael and Debbie had on identical faces at the thought and Vic simply shook his head. In light of just how much sushi there was, Brian just ordered the lobster bisque. Justin ordered the sea bass, figuring that way others would feel free to order a full meal if they didn’t like sushi. He was confident he could do justice to both.

No one talked about the mass, burial and reception tomorrow. Dave broke the news his son might be with them most of the summer and asked Justin if any of his friends were looking for a part time job. Justin almost laughed at the idea that any of the girls would need money and if they did they would probably take office work at Kinnetik over babysitting a ten year old but said he would ask. He asked if Dave had picked a summer program and Jennifer asked how old David’s son was and recommended an art camp that Justin had loved at that age.

Justin said, “Hank isn’t artsy, Mom. He’d probably like some of the STEM related programs more.

“What’s stem?” Michael asked.

Justin said, “Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics. Remember that summer camp Daphne tried to drag me to at the Carnegie Science Center before we picked the art camp? I think they still do that, you’d want to check with them for more up-to-date details but Daph is starting Johns Hopkins in the fall so they really nurtured her despite society trying to steer girls away from math and science. I know they had a body lab and a robotics lab and field trips, you can even volunteer to help chaperone some of them, Mrs. Chanders did.”

There were several different conversations going on and Justin tried to catch pieces of each of them but it was a rather festive atmosphere regardless of the occasion or the munchers’ relationship woes. Kevin was talking about a cruise he and Ted were planning to take and HD mentioned he never liked the Love Boat but wouldn’t mind and up-close look at glaciers and whales. Emmett looked horrified at the thought of icebergs and started going on about poor Leonardo DiCaprio and HD had a look that said ‘who in the hell is Leonardo DiCaprio’ but just nodded along. Debbie was trying to lure his mom to a PFLAG meeting and Lindsay was showing off her WASP manners to his grandmother.

Brian seemed to be just picking at his food but Justin made up for him. Michael was convinced to try some sushi by David. HD must have been the one to pick what items to include in the enormous boat because he could really pack food away and was surprisingly deft with chopsticks. Justin stuck with water, not in deference to this mother but because he found the flavor palette of sushi to be too delicate for many wines.

Despite Lindsay and Mel’s issues or perhaps because of the various people coming together to show support for Brian it was a nice quiet dinner with everyone making an effort to get along and include even the outsiders like Kevin and Justin’s family. His mom and grandmother were the first to leave while everyone was having after dinner coffee or drinks. Elizabeth kissed both Justin and Brian goodbye and said while she hoped to see them Sunday she would understand if they needed sometime to themselves after all the social obligations of this week. Justin’s mom told him she would call Mr. Hunt first thing Monday to reiterate that there had been a death in the family since Daphne had told her she expected trouble from the administration.

Debbie overheard and after they left asked pointblank what sort of problems he had at school. Justin was a bit put out by the invasiveness of the question but since she’d had everyone’s attention directed to him he explained that his school had problems realizing he was an adult who hadn’t live at home since right after the start of the school year. They occasionally treated him as some sort of delinquent who wasn’t responsible enough to make his own decisions.

Ted snorted at that because unlike the rest of the table he had a clear idea of Justin’s net worth and knew he ran his own business and helped with both of Brian’s. Michael for once kept quiet but looked like he wanted to point out Justin couldn’t even legally buy alcohol.

Brian settled the bill and they walked out with the girls to the cars, thus negating the need to explain why Gus would be spending the night at Daddy’s. Back at the loft Gus played on the rug while they went through their evening routine. Before long Gus was dozing and they set up a popup crib Brian had ordered so Gus didn’t have to stay strapped in his carrier.

Brian was dreading going back to his parents’ house the next day and Justin asked if he expected a scene. Brian sucked his bottom lip in and gave it some serious thought before venturing, “It’s hard to say. If it was just the family; hell yeah, but this is high theater. We’re on stage and performing for all the people Joan likes to lord her perfect Catholic family over. It’s going to be a real test of what she values more, the moral high ground, or the appearance of the moral high ground.”

“Just let me know what you need, you know I have your back,” Justin said.

Brian pulled him close and said, “I think I’ve always known that.”

 


	66. By the light of the night it'll all seem alright.

Justin got out of his car, just as Mel crossed the street from parking on the other side. Justin had run out because, unbelievably, they were out of lube. He’d picked up some nicotine gum hoping it would calm Brian down during the mass and afterward at the reception. Maybe it would keep him from starting to smoke again. He greeted Mel with, “we could have dropped him off before the mass.”

“We’re coming to the burial and reception,” Mel said, “but wanted to use Gus as a reason to not sit an hour in a Catholic church with a larger than life realistic crucified mannequin staring at us the whole time.”

Justin made a face and said, “When you put it that way it sounds barbaric.”

He opened the exterior door for Mel as she said, “Because it isn’t when put another way?”

“I never really thought about it. When other kids were in Bible camp I was finger painting. Brian spent kindergarten through eighth grade in CCD classes. He said something once about obedience being the virtue of Christianity and strength being the virtue of paganism, or something like that,” Justin said, opening the grated for the lift.

Mel frowned and said, “What does CCD stand for?”

“I have no idea, it’s like Catholic bible school or something only it’s ever Saturday, Brian’s still bitter about the cartoons he missed. I think if he ever forms his own religion he’d going to make a rule you have to leave your kids alone and let them figure junk out on their own,” he explained.

Mel said as they rode up in the elevator, “Can I just go on record that the thought of Brian Kinney forming his own religion fills me with both wonder and terror?”

“I told Daphne,” Justin grinned as they stopped and he opened the elevator door, “right after I met Brian, ‘I’ve seen the face of God and his name is Brian Kinney’ by the end of that day she was convinced I was going to be going to door-to-door asking people to accept him as their personal savior.”

Mel grinned and said, “Oh, my God; I was never that young.”

Justin rolled open the door to the loft and they were hit by sound of the brassy horns of ‘Huey Lewis and the News’ while Brian, thankfully wearing a pair of jeans, rocked out while on his knees on the fluffy fur rug with Gus to ‘The Power of Love’. Justin slapped his hand over his mouth and shared a delighted look with Mel. He dashed to the desk, dropped his bag from the drug store and grabbed the digital camera. He got off a couple shots before Gus clued Brian in to his audience.

Brian made a face and Mel laughed so hard she had to sit down on the sofa.

“He likes to dance,” Brian said by way of explanation as Justin turned down the music.

Mel gasped, “Oh God, I have to pee,” and dashed for the bathroom.

“I will get you back, Sunshine,” Brian said.

Justin smirked and said, “It’s not like I’m planning to post them on Facebook.”

Brian looked over to make sure Mel wasn’t around and said, “Only because you can’t, yet. What has Melanie over so early?”

“They’re going to spare Gus the mass and bring him round to the grave site and reception,” Justin said. He started getting the spare bottles from the fridge and packing the few things they’d taken out of Gus’ bag.

Brian leaned over Gus and nuzzled him, Justin heard him whisper, “Wish I could ditch it with you, Sonny boy.”

Mel left and today Brian went in monochromatic black; Armani of course. Justin opted for his gray suit with a vivid blue shirt and gray tie. He drove the BMW but asked if Brian would be taking the limo with his mom and sister’s family from the funeral home to the church and then to the cemetery. Brian looked horrified at the thought of being stuck with them and said, “If they aren’t willing to have you with me; I ride with you.”

“You think she’ll realize you set her up to make her insist you do what you actually wanted to do in the first place?” Justin asked.

Brian smirked and said, “She never has before.”                                                                  

As they entered Bill, the funeral home director, was going over things and after greeting them said, “Brian, I understand you’ve taken care of the pallbearers?”

“Richard said he would do it,” Joan said.

Brian asked Richard, “You have five guys besides yourself lined up?”

“Well, no, I thought I’d ask friends of Jack’s” Richard said.

“They’re all a little long in the tooth to be carrying a coffin but I got no problem with telling the people I have lined up that there’s no manual labor needed but we need to decide this now,” Brian said.

Richard looked at the director, the director looked at Joan and said, “Mrs. Kinney we have less than half an hour until we need to move Mr. Kinney to the hearse and then from the hearse to the church and then back to the hearse and out again to the grave site.”

“I don’t want him carried by damned souls,” Joan said.

Justin said, “I’m Presbyterian, not damned.” They were the first words he’d spoken to her since he’d told her, ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ on Wednesday when he dropped Claire off, after Clarie had introduced him as Brian’s friend, and Joan had turned away without speaking to him. “Ted’s Jewish, Emmett is a Southern Baptist, I’m pretty sure Michael’s the only Catholic, but if you want, his boyfriend could substitute, I think David’s a Methodist. HD might actually be a Druid but then again his cousin might have just been pulling my leg.”

Claire laughed but it had a hysterical tinge to it and her husband shot her a look that said shut up.

Brian looked at Bill and said, “I don’t suppose you have a list of non-damned souls in your rolodex who can haul some coffin for a nominal fee?”

A few people showed up at the funeral home, mostly older and women. Jack’s friends had paid their respects at the not-wake and stopped by during the week; or were smart enough to go straight to the church so they wouldn’t get tapped as pallbearers. Justin heard two people turn Joan down, using bad backs or knees as excuses. HD and Emmett showed and David and Michael, Ted was late but with Brian they still had six if they needed it. Ted showed up just as the hearse pulled around the front of the building.

“What’s it going to be, Ma? You got this taken care of, or not?” Brian asked.

Joan was white lipped with anger and said, “If you would just repent-”

“Joan, you are not going to get six queers to give up dick just to feed your sanctimonious ego. Now are we doing this? He’s not getting any fresher,” Brian said.

Joan hissed and said, “You are a hateful and ungrateful child.”

“I am what you made me, Ma. A damaged and imperfect soul, but the ill you did me is between you and your maker, I’ve washed my hands of you. Do you want to bury him today or shall we leave him here until you can find six righteous men who meet you oh so exacting standards,” Brian said. “You’re the one who doesn’t like making scenes. I could care less what the neighbors think of ‘Beinhauer’s’ parking the casket out by the garbage cans to be picked up because you wouldn’t let it be taken to the hearse.”

Bill stopped by as they talked and asked, “Brian, are you and Justin riding with your mother and sister’s family?”

“Certainly not! That boy isn’t family.” Joan said.

Brian said, “Justin’s car is the BMW wagon, we’ll take that. We’re still thinking of leaving the casket here since we can’t line up six people worthy to touch it. Do you charge for storage?”

“No, you should ride with the family Brian-” Joan started.

At the same time Bill said, “We… you’re not serious right? There are more than six men over there-”

“They’re gay, Bill. Joan’s homophobic. Ma, Justin is my family, so are Mel, Lindsay, Michael and Gus so I will be riding with my family,” Brian said.

“Mrs. Kinney, if we don’t move Mr. Kinney right now it will throw the whole schedule off over at Immaculate Heart and there’s a wedding there this afternoon and a baptism as soon as the funeral mass is over,” Bill said.

Reluctantly, perhaps at the thought of the church thinking she did it on purpose Joan agreed and a few words were said to the visitors and Brian and Justin took the front handles, Michael and Ted the middle and Emmett and HD the back. They slowly carried Jack’s coffin down the long reception area and out onto the sidewalk and loaded him into the back of the hearse.

Joan, Claire, Richard and the boys followed in a limo, Brian and Justin immediately behind and a small procession of cars to the church parking lot. They then repeated it into the church and where thank God they had a gold filigree table on wheels specifically to get the coffin all the way up the center aisle to the alter which they could just walk along side. The alter was decorated with the peace lilies. Justin was impressed by the ornate décor and stained glass. His family church, that to be honest they didn’t attend, was very plain in comparison. However now that Mel mentioned it he couldn’t look away from the crucified Christ and it was creeping him out.

There were more people there than had been at the funeral home. Catholic mass was much more interactive than a Protestant service. Brian and Michael knew all the responses and Justin just stood, sat, kneeled a second behind Brian. HD took a sneezing fit when they swung some sort of incense burner around the coffin. Emmett handed him a handkerchief and for some reason HD murmured, “Told you,” to him.

After the mass they went forward and moved the coffin out in a procession while the people watched and loaded it back into the hearse. A short drive and they were moving it a final time up a hill from the roadway that wound through ‘St Mary’s Cemetery’ the plot was dug and waiting. They carefully placed the coffin on a prepared device used to lower it into the ground and moved to the side. Lindsay and Mel came up on Brian’s other side. Gus was in his carrier with a blanket draped over to keep out the wind. Justin took the carrier from Mel since she was pregnant and Gus and his carrier wore out Brian occasionally; for some reason this got a disapproving look from Lindsay. Justin refrained from shooting it right back at her for letting her pregnant partner do the heavy lifting.

They prayed some more at the grave site and then the priest issued a general invitation for everyone to join the family back at the Kinney home. Joan looked like she wanted to speak up and put some restrictions on just who would be welcome but held her peace.

Justin offered to take Gus back to Mel’s car but she said, “He can ride with you it’s only a mile or so, we’ll see him there. How was the mass?”

“Thanks to you I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Have you ever realized there’s a lot of similarity between a Catholic Mass and ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’; all the responding to phrases with other phrases or talking in unison and getting up and moving around together?” Justin asked.

Mel smiled and said, “Tell that to Brian, he looks like he could use a laugh.”

“God you should have heard St. Joan at the funeral parlor, she threw a hissy fit about having damned souls carrying the coffin. I thought Brian was going to walk out and leave her to push it herself,” Justin said.

He met Brian at the car, Brian was chatting with the priest and Justin fastened Gus in back and waited for Brian to join him. As Brian started the car he said, “You don’t know why the parish has received over three thousand dollars in donations in memory of Pop, do you?”

“Not me, other than the coffin spray and the alter decorations, I only sent flowers from Kinnetik and that was it. Oh, I called the mill and they put it on the retiree portion of their website and on the bulletin board and I called the Irish Center and they put in their online newsletter and on the board at the hall, and I had them post a notice at Jack’s club and his bowling league, just the times of the service and that the family was requesting donations instead of flowers,” Justin said. Brian had a look that said their cultures were clashing again and Justin said, “You told me to take care of notifying everyone but Debbie, Michael and the girls.”

“I meant Emmett and Ted not the whole fucking city,” Brian said and started to laugh. When he stopped Justin mentioned his observations on Catholic mass and kept Brian amused all the way to his mother’s house. Brian heaved a sigh as they parked, glared at the house and then looked back at Gus who was dozing and at Justin and said, “Well boys, once more unto the breach.”

Brian’s nephews looked at Gus but had no interest since he was still at the laying around stage. The house already had a crowd who beat them back from the cemetery. Apparently the church sent women to help in the kitchen and who were there setting out food before anyone arrived. Amid the casseroles and dishes dropped off by neighbors were several trays from Whole Foods, vegetable platters, cheese trays, a couple sandwich rings, a pasta dish that looked like it could serve an army and a mountain of fried chicken.

Claire was already weeping and Joan looked ready to explode as more fags came into her home. She couldn’t say anything because she didn’t want the neighbors to know they were fags. Richard was giving one of the hell spawn a talking to that involved grabbing him by the wrist and squeezing it when HD and Emmett walked in. HD greeted Richard like an old friend and slapped him so hard on the back Justin was surprised he didn’t hit the floor; of course HD was holding his hand that he’d started to shake, which might have held him up and leaned in to say something low and menacing before following Emmett to over where Justin was with Gus.

Richard found a place out of the way to sit after that and Brian nodded to HD as he passed. The girls arrived shortly after Michael and David. Ted having come in just after Emmett made sure Mel had a seat near Gus. Justin was glad someone besides him seemed to remember Mel was pregnant and shouldn’t be standing for long times or carrying heavy things.

Brian stopped by their group and assured everyone the trays from ‘Whole Foods’ should be safe to eat if they were hungry, but warned that he felt most of the casseroles had been prepared by half blind women with too many cats so should be avoided. Gus was handed to Brian at some point and he carried him as he worked the room.

Joan apparently cornered Michael about his damnation and how she blamed him for contaminating Brian. Michael came to confide in David who said they could leave if they were not welcome, but Michael didn’t want to leave Brian in his grief. Brian’s grief was not really in evidence as he listened to some of Jack’s crowd tell carousing stories from their single days. Justin figured Brian could top anything they came up with and wondered if their heads would explode if Brian went into the graphic details of some of his sexual exploits.

Richard and Claire got into an argument and she slapped him. He hauled back a fist and HD said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Sit down, asshole. You lay a hand on her and this is going to go from a discrete after-burial reception, to a real old fashioned Irish donnybrook faster than anyone can the cops.”

Joan looked appalled, not at Richard but at the enormous faggot threatening him. Brian looked at Joan like he was thinking she needed a good hard slap and crossed the room to Justin.

“I need you to take care of my son.” Brian was incandescent with rage. He stood holding Gus out to Justin.

Justin wanted to say ‘don’t do anything stupid’ or ‘they just don’t matter’ instead he said, “Of course,” and took Gus from Brian.

Brian turned and moved slowly, the crowd parted and gave way before him. It wasn’t his sexy prowl though Babylon where people turned to enjoy the view, but it wasn’t his angry stride though the halls of Kinnetik that for years had art directors and interns alike hiding under desks or frantically trying to look busy. This was the calm before a storm and Justin hoped to hell no one punchable, like a priest, tried to talk him down.

Brian snagged Claire as he walked by and they both stopped by their mother who gave Brian the same stony look she’d given him since he showed up at the funeral parlor. Whatever he said in a low dangerous whisper had her turn white and all three went into the kitchen, which emptied out abruptly of the ladies from the church helping with food.

They could hear Claire’s voice raise and what sounded like Joan shutting her up, or at least admonishing her to lower her voice in light of the houseful of people. Brian’s deeper voice was a low counterpoint but he words were indistinguishable. The dining room and parlor, the whole first floor was eerily quiet, no whispered conversations or low murmur of voices, everyone in attendance was silent and straining to hear the group in the kitchen. Even Gus was quietly gumming one of his blocks.

Emmett had a shocked look and for the first time that day, at least around the hetros, clasped HD’s hand. HD transferred it to his other hand and put his arm around Em’s shoulder. Lindsay and Michael exchanged a knowing look and Ted, sitting next to Mel, looked deeply uncomfortable at this glimpse into Brian’s home life as a child. Deb tried to say something but Vic shushed her and said softly, “Its time, this should have happened a long time ago.”

Claire’s voice rose again and the words, “You can’t understand,” were all that were heard before both Brian’s murmur and Joan’s shrill counterpoint cut her off.

One of Claire’s hell spawn eeled between legs and then hunched down on the floor by the kitchen door. Before an adult tried to move him away, he did something to a vent on the wall and it was if he turned on a speaker.

Joan’s voice echoed out of the vent, “- for years. I did my duty as a wife and mother in the eyes of God. Claire you took vows, you can’t just walk away because it isn’t easy. You have to do what’s right. If I could endure it you-“

“What is right, mother? Duty? Endure?” Claire sobbing and her voice broke when she cut in.

“You’re no martyr, Joan. Don’t you get that? You don’t earn points with God, any God, by standing by and letting your kids be hit. Go outside and set yourself on fire, if that’s what you want, it will be just as effective as numbing yourself with brandy so you can sit in a church pew and contemplate how much more God will love you than everyone you’ve spent your life looking down on. You don’t earn a place as gatekeeper to heaven for your pious suffering simply because you got too drunk to care your kids were being abused and neglected. And Claire, this should not be your role model for motherhood,” Brian said.

“You’re an abomination in the eyes of God. Your persistence in practicing vile unclean acts, the very thought of you with a child is revolting,” Joan said. “You’re not a parent Brian, simply paying some wanton to have your child -”

Brian cut her off with a loud, “I’m your abomination Joanie. This is what happens when you whore yourself to trap a man who didn’t want to marry you and sell the safety and sanity of your children all so you can sit in a pew and claim to be better than the rest of the parish. And the mothers of my children are the kind of women I can trust to kill me if I ever hit my kids. You fucked up your life and you blamed Claire and me for it, and now you want Claire to fuck up her life, just so you don’t have to admit that you made four people miserable for decades. Why do you think I call Claire’s kids the hell spawn? It’s not just how fucking destructive they are, I’m not around them enough for that. It’s because from the day they were born I knew it was just a matter of time before you’d be calling them abominations. No one is capable of being holy enough for you Joan. You hate yourself and take it out on everyone around you. Jack was as much your victim as I was his.”

Claire’s husband started to stand and HD said, “Seriously, if you can’t sit there and say nothing, leave; or I’ll throw you, literally.

“Is that a threat?” he asked.

HD said, “It’s a warning asshole. You think Brian isn’t looking for a fight right now? And we queers fight dirty, my money’s on him wiping the floor with you.”

Joan must have stormed away from the argument because Brian and Claire remained in the kitchen and she emerged to find every eye on her. Debbie got up and went over to her, ushering her up the stairs. Even with the vent open, now that they weren’t yelling Brian and Claire’s voices were indistinguishable and the conversations rose again and drowned out their murmur.

Mel captured Justin’s attention and asked if they wanted to pick Gus up tomorrow before brunch. He glanced at Lindsay who didn’t look happy and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Lindsay and I need to talk and I’d like her undivided attention,” Mel said without glancing at her. As the girls made their goodbye, Lindsay looked as if she wanted to wait for Brian but Mel said, “Justin will pass on your regards and you’ll see them both tomorrow when they pick up Gus.”

Justin secured Gus in his carrier and when Mel reached for it he said, “Either Lindsay carries him to the car or I do. You’re pregnant and shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting.”

“He’s not heavy,” Mel said, “and I’m not that pregnant.”

Justin stood firm and started to follow them out but Lindsay took the carrier, looking at Justin oddly.

Brian opened the kitchen door and said, “Richard, would you step in here,” it wasn’t really a question and from his look Brian was hoping he said no.

Richard shot a look to HD who lifted his chin toward Brian as if to say ‘got your back’. Justin never having been a jock didn’t really know the code but in observing Mike and Paul figured this was almost like the straight guy solidarity they showed on occasion.

Michael looked put out that Brian hadn’t given any strange jock signals to him but Michael was more of a dweeb than an art fag so maybe he didn’t observe the jock subculture with an eye to decipher the language, dweebs tended to just need to avoid jocks altogether but art fags occasionally pursued jocks for sex so had to figure out how to speak their language to avoid mixed signals. Boy did Justin know mixed signals.

Dave suggested again that they should leave and Michael looked at him like he was crazy. Ted made his goodbyes to Justin in lieu of Brian and said he would stop by Kinnetik on Monday. Since HD was staying in case a fight broke out, Emmett went over to help the parish women with the food.

Debbie and Joan came back downstairs and Joan seemed angry that the kids were still in the kitchen and not entertaining the guests. Justin had started to chat with Vic when Debbie came over and asked Michael what was going on. Justin wasn’t sure if Michael was covering when he said he didn’t know but judging by the look Vic shared with Justin, Michael really didn’t know. It was HD, much to Joan consternation, who said, “Brian is explaining the widow option to Richard,” while, across the room Emmett made a choking noise.

 


	67. I'll get you a satanic mechanic.

 

Jud was parked in front of their building when HD and Emmett pulled up Saturday after the reception. He was sitting on the tailgate of his truck, it had a heavy tarp tied over the filled bed and he was slurping the remains of a big gulp.

“Thank God,” he said, “I really have to drain the main vein and I didn’t want to get arrested for going against the side of the building.”

“You’re all class,” Emmett said as they got out of the truck.

Jud goggled as he took in their suits and said, “Who died?”

“Brian’s dad,” HD said, “we were pallbearers. Christ I hate Catholic funerals, my eyes are still running.”

After Jud used the bathroom and they changed into work clothes they had him follow them to his new digs. ‘The Pennsylvanian’ was right downtown where Liberty met Grant, above where the trains still came into the city. HD brought up a tape measure and they all went up first with Jud’s clothing to check it out. It was a nice furnished one bedroom but only about four hundred square feet. There really wasn’t any room for much, it was fully furnished and had dishes, pans, cutlery and linens already. It even had an ironing board, not that Jud would use it and a vacuum which he probably would.

So after unloading clothes and toiletries and some CDs and DVDs they hauled the rest of it back to their place. They had plenty of room to store Jud’s junk until he got his own place and he hadn’t brought much in the way of furniture. There were a couple boxes of towels, and other linens, some white boring shatterproof plates and bowls, a bookcase he’d made in shop class as a kid and an ugly chair and couch combo that had good lines but needed to be reupholstered in the worst way; a bright yellow 1950s Formica kitchen table with matching chairs in spilt plastic, a hibachi and a pretty powerful looking space heater.

“Yeah,” Jud said when he noticed Emmett looking at it, “Burnett gave me that, he said I’m gonna freeze up here. I work for a gas company and he gives me an electric heater. Do you know what those things do to your electric bills?”

Since it was still early Emmett dragged Jud and HD to out to the ‘Men’s Warehouse’ down at The Waterfront. Jud had only his interview suit and if he was going into the office on Monday at the very least he needed a couple more shirts, and if Emmett could talk him into it a new suit or two.

Shopping with his straight brother and his colorblind suit hating boyfriend was trying even Emmett’s patience. He spend a good ten minutes explaining to Jud that pink went well with his existing navy blue suit and would flatter his complexion. HD was no help he just said, “It’s gray,” whenever asked his opinion. Jud did try on a very nice gray single breasted suit. And in a surprise for someone only willing to pair white shirts with a navy suit, was willing to try both a black shirt and a maroon one with it. He was unwilling to try any pattered shirt or patterned ties and Emmett flashed back on him as a willful toddler only wanting solid color clothing as well. So Jud bought the gray suit, but it had to be altered; Emmett offered to pick it up later in the week. He also bought four white shirts, two black, two navy and two maroon, all identical. The same with the ties, all textured solids in two different shades of gray, one black, one navy, one maroon and a red one.

HD abruptly said, “Socks,” as Jud was getting ready to check out and Jud grabbed a six pack of thick black athletic socks.

Emmett snatched it out of his hand and steered him over to the dress socks, Jud bought four pair of black and four of gray with a long suffering sigh and they were done. HD then took them to dinner at ‘The Rock Bottom Brewery’ to celebrate, he didn’t say if it was to celebrate Jud’s new job or to celebrate being done with the shopping. That man could spend the day poking around ‘Construction Junction’ or ‘The Habituate for Humanity Store’ but it would be easier to get him to try S&M than shop for clothing, Emmett thought fondly.

They spent the meal being updated on the family and on giving Jud the run down on different Pittsburgh neighborhoods. Oakland, students from eighteen to eighty it had tons of short term, badly maintained apartments. The South Side, bars and restaurants, little hole in the wall places and lots of bands; Shady Side, upscale, expensive, Yuppies; Squirrel Hill, spill over from the Universities, more mature, was traditionally the Jewish neighborhood but very gentrified. Regent Square, blue collar but more suburban young people were moving in to reduce their commutes. Mexican War Streets, large historical buildings, but a small grouping of blocks and surrounded by high crime. Bloomfield, still very Italian lots of row houses and little outdoor space, Friendship more of the same but higher crime and more of the large Victorians divided up into small walk ups and Highland Park more old family homes with new generations of couples with kids.

Jud asked about Lawrenceville where they lived and HD said it was divided into upper, middle and lower, they were in lower closest to The Strip, the park and the bar Jud had frequented were in middle. HD advised him to look for places there within a block or two of Butler and avoid Upper Lawrenceville, not because of crime but because he’d have to drive or walk to Middle or Lower to find food or entertainment. He also recommended talking to Shelley as she had just gone through an apartment search herself and would know a lot of the complexes and what was available. Jud didn’t seem at all averse to doing that.

+

Well, Justin thought, they survived what they’d both been dreading since Brian’s dad had stopped by and he told them he was dying. In ways it had been better and worse than the first time. Justin was glad he’d had Brian to himself Saturday afternoon. After they’d reassured Michael, repeatedly, that Brian was, if not fine, going to survive the experience they went home. Justin dug out the massage oils and set about working on Brian’s body until he was limp and pliant; before going to bed, if not to sleep, early.

They were scheduled to pick up Gus at nine on Sunday. It was early for brunch but Brian was hoping to find out if the dykes had settled anything. Although judging by what Mel said when they called to find out what time to get Gus, Lindsay had been dodging any sort of culpability. Sundays, that weren’t holidays, were casual days and they both were in jeans, Brian in a tee shirt and loose oxford over shirt with the sleeves rolled up and Justin a long sleeved hoodie, as they pulled up in front of Lindsay and Mel’s.

Mel answered the door, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. She didn’t say a word just let them in. Lindsay was bustling about, packing up things Gus really didn’t need, and giving them instructions on his care as if they’d never taken him before. Brian took Gus’ bag and handed it along with Gus himself in his carrier to Justin and said, “Sunshine, can you boys give us a minute? I’ll join you in the car.”

“Brian,” Lindsay started as Justin went out the door to put Gus in the car, “really this is between Mel and me.”

+

Brian waited to hear the door click closed because Lindsay didn’t think of Justin as family any more than she really thought of him as family. He was just the guy who jerked off in a cup. This was her playhouse with her play family. The only thing was; it was his real kid she was playing with, so he glared at her and said, “It ceased to be between you and Mel, when you brought Gus into the equation. I will tell you what I told Mel, I don’t care how you do it, but work this out. You don’t have to live the dyke dream but whether or not you’re still a couple you are still, both of you, Gus’ mothers so fucking act like it.”

Mel snorted and Lindsay said, “Brian, really? You’re hardly the one to lecture us. You’ve lived the life of a club boy for the past ten years, a few months of acting like a grown up doesn’t make you mature enough to be a parent.”

“Most of the people on this planet were born to people who really weren’t mature enough to be parents. The ones who think they’re mature enough are usually the people who fuck their kids up the worst. Maybe none of us were mature enough to bring a kid into the world, maybe we still aren’t, but what’s done is done and we are now responsible for keeping as much of our shit from spilling over and damaging our kids as we possibly can. Cope and deal, ladies.” He said.

“No one wants to admit they’re wrong, no one wants to admit they’re selfish, no one wants to admit anything. I’ll start I’m almost thirty years old and an excessively lapsed Catholic, whose doubts about God, the Church and an all too knowing understanding of manipulating the public make me think religion, politics and society in general are trying to mold me into a God-fearing, straight, wage-slave. I drink too much, stay out too late and I’m a workaholic. I’ve spent most of my adult life, pretty much redefining promiscuity. My father was an abusive drunk, my mother is a frigid bitch and they, in order to present the expected nuclear family, took their hate for each other out on their children, which is probably why I’ve been unwilling or unable to form a committed long-term relationship, until I met a bitchy seventeen year old princess who is incapable of taking no for an answer. Who’s next?” Lindsay was wide-eyed. That was probably more details that he’d shared with her in the past ten years. She looked to Mel and then she looked back at him as if to ask what he was waiting for.

Mel said, “I’m a bitter, angry dyke. I grew up in a world geared toward the success of the white male and I sometimes forget that none of the current white males taking advantage of that world had a hand in setting it up the way it is. I’m terrified of being pregnant. My mother miscarried very late in her pregnancy with my younger sister and it nearly killed her, it’s why I’m an only child. I expected Lindsay to be more supportive but didn’t share how vulnerable I was feeling. I got hurt when she didn’t pick up on emotions I was keeping to myself. And now due to her not being there and choosing to be with someone else, I don’t trust her to be there for me or for either of our children. I’ve been angry that I didn’t realize she was having an affair. I’m angry that when I was alone and vulnerable and sometimes worried for her safety she was out with someone else not even thinking about me or Gus. And,” she turned a hard look on Lindsay and said, “even though you told me it’s only been since you went on your trip, I’ve been reexamining every time you were late or home alone without Kal and I wonder if you were cheating on me then too.”

“No!” Lindsay said, “I wasn’t I swear. This thing with Sam – he’s not even that attractive. I don’t know why, part of it was just he made me feel like the Lindsay I was in college – or the Lindsay I dreamed of being, young, desirable, moving in the circles covered in the Arts and Society section of the paper. I just, it was like trying on a wedding dress when you don’t plan to be married or changing your hair color. It was just – it was nothing – nothing worth loosing you or the kids or my life for, it was a fancy, a ‘what if’. I never meant for anyone to find out. It was like trying on someone else’s clothes, it doesn’t mean you want to be them, you just want to see what it looks like.”

Brian locked his gaze on his feet and painfully said nothing, he wasn’t a woman, he wasn’t a dyke and that was the biggest load of crap he’d ever heard. He carefully didn’t meet Mel’s eyes because Lindsay could be possessive and if she thought he was on Mel’s side she’d rush out in a veil of tears.

Mel said more to the air than to him or Linz, “I don’t know why people think saying ‘it meant nothing’ is somehow better than saying something like ‘it meant the world to me’, because at least if it was something you wanted with all your heart, mind and soul I could understand you being willing to throw away the six years we’ve been together. The fact that you say something like ‘I never meant for anyone to find out’ that says you value the appearance of us being together over our having an honest relationship. So what I hear is that you would be happy to have gone on lying to me, and letting me think we had a good thing, to build a hollow meaningless life on a foundation of lies, rather than tell the truth or deny yourself whatever ego stroke this boyfriend of yours offered you.”

“Must we do this in front of Brian?” Lindsay hissed.

Brian looked up and drawled, “If you’d have been talking without me pushing I’d be gone already. You think I like playing Dear fucking Abby? My vested interest in this debacle is together or separate you two need to hammer out a working relationship in the mommy department. Lindz, if you’re now driving stick you need to find a way to still be a mom to Gus and the new kid, preferably without sending Mel in to labor before she hits her second month. Man up. Mel didn’t go off and muff dive at the local dyke bar while you were being a hormonal cunt, she catered to your fucking Madonna complex. It’s your turn. So you’re not the star of the show. Do you remember that line of bull you sold me when you wanted to have a baby?” He adopted a high pitched falsetto and said, “We won’t be like our parents, Brian.” His voice dropped to an angry growl and he asked, “Did you take a good hard look at Joan? The bar isn’t that fucking high; I think you can follow through on that promise if you make a little effort. I’ll leave you to settle this, but fucking settle it. And Mel, go easy on her it’s not like you picked her for her brains, or her good judgement.”

“Brian!” Lindsay squawked but he was already out the door.

+

Brian joined him in the car. He actually took the passenger seat, and Justin could see the anger drain from him as the turned in his seat to check on Gus. In that instant it was never more obvious that this was a Brian on the high side of forty and not the twenty nine year old he’d fallen for. They stopped on the way to Redstone to do the dry cleaning shuffle, dropping off and picking up suits and uniforms. Justin, to the amusement of the lady behind the counter, suggested they should just buy the place for how much they spent there.

Bertie was wearing his oxygen mask nonstop as they visited and this had Brian quietly freaked. Justin was pretty sure that the staff thought Brian was one of Bertie’s grandkids because they freely discussed his condition stating that it was just a precaution for his diminished lung capacity and that they were monitoring he oxygen levels in his blood so Brian should not worry. It was just a cold.

While Brian was being reassured, Justin stopped and chatted with his fangirls reiterating how much they both appreciated their show of support over the past week. Of course with Nichol he shared that with Brian’s dad’s rep as a ladies man that ‘The Girls at Redstone’ could have a whole different meaning to Mrs. Kinney. He was pretty sure it made her day to be considered the other woman.

Justin sat with his grandmother and thought about Brian’s comment on getting him attached to old people who are just going to die on him. Around this time last year, Justin had been worried Bertie wouldn’t live to see him complete the burlesque project; but he was here and they lost Stella. He’s had an extra year with his grandmother and Brian got to meet Bertie and they would eventually lose them both, and grieve.

It was probably due to the extra time granted both of them, the chance to say what needed to be said that had let Brian lay some of the ghosts of his childhood to rest. Justin was still turning over the one phrase Brian had shouted at Joan, ‘Jack was as much your victim as I was his’.

God knew Brian Kinney had never owned, aloud, to being anyone’s victim, regardless of his childhood. But he laid that out for Joan, and the fact that he could admit to it, that he was a victim and the fact that he saw a kindred spirit of a sort in Jack. That was something Brian had never had. Something Justin could trace back to New Year’s Eve when Jack himself had owned up to a mistake, something he’d apparently never done the first time. Justin remembered how quickly Brian’s face had blanked at the words ‘I should never have told her to get an abortion’. In Justin’s mind telling her that was not the mistake, but telling Brian he had told her, that was something Brian had carried with him. Brian still believed ‘sorry’ was bullshit, and given how cavalierly it was used to dismiss random selfish and cruel acts Justin was inclined to agree, but those words had released something in Brian and let him make peace with the old drunk before he passed on. And in doing so, given Brian a measure of that peace.

There was little hope Joan would ever offer any balm to the wounds she’d inflicted on her child and as far as Justin was concern the cunt could rot. The next time he wanted to see her was when Claire needed the receipt for the prepaid funeral Brian had already lined up. Although part of him wouldn’t mind seeing the look on St. Joan’s face once the headstone was placed on their adjoining plots because all her info except the date of death was on it as well. Brian may be a bastard but his way of spitting in her face had a lot of class; nothing like a solid granite reminder you’re all but dead to your kid.

Justin had never been a pallbearer before, Ben had been cremated and for Debbie and his mom’s funerals, Michael and Tucker had taken care of everything. Neither Debbie nor Vic had a Catholic Mass, with that added movement of the coffin. There was something, not so much holy, as a rite of manhood in carrying the mortal remains of someone’s family for them. It was a bond or a public display of support, not so much for the corpse as for the kin. In standing with Brian and carrying his father with him as he was consigned to his eternal rest it was like being a shield bearer in some old battle or standing as the retinue of a king. It was telling that it was HD, not Dave who filled in the empty slot not held by Brian’s friends or lover. Of course if there was heavy lifting to do, HD would be Justin’s first choice too. But given that Brian spoke to Dave more it was surprising that he actually seemed closer to HD. It was obvious that while vastly different they liked each other; it was hard not to like someone who made Em so happy.

Bertie and Brian were sitting away from him and his grandmother. He had a feeling that they weren’t talking business today and was glad they got here early. Justin knew that they couldn’t be all things to each other and was glad Brian had Bertie to vent some of his concerns and frustrations to someone who respected him and given he really just needed someone to listen Bertie didn’t even need to remove his oxygen to help him out.

In hushed conference Justin relayed how hateful Joan had been and that she was pressuring her daughter to stay in a bad marriage, just like she did. Elizabeth cautioned him that while he should listen if Brian needed to talk he should hold back his comments on Joan. Good advice if he was really eighteen and this was the first time Brian had dealt with all this but the likelihood of Brian taking offence or suddenly feeling protective of his heinously bad mother was severely reduced since it had never happened before she died the last time. Of course there was no way to share that with his grandmother so he just nodded and agreed with her.

Jennifer and Molly stopped by for brunch; apparently Elizabeth’s digs the other night had hit fertile ground. Molly, quite gravely, approached Brian and told him she was sorry his dad died. He thanked her for her condolences just as solemnly and asked if she wanted to meet Gus. Molly was a quick study on the grab the block game and kept Gus highly entertained.

+

After brunch, Brian checked his voice mails to see if the munchers were summoning him back to return Gus after they talked things out and there was one from Emmett. He and HD had been hitting estate sales that morning and Em was gushing about a Paul Frankl dining table and chairs that would be perfect for a conference room. That actually meant something to Brian so he called Emmett back and after stopping at the loft for cash, as in serious cash the kind in the safe he installed in the floor beneath the painting of the naked guy. They headed out to the estate sale in Fox Chapel. In addition to the dining table and ten chairs, there were two low tables by Wolfgang Hoffman and a Donald Deskey sideboard, sofa and two club chairs.

While the low tables would fit in the sport wagon, even with Gus, and HD could fit the dining table and side board and club chairs in his truck the ten chairs for the dining table were a concern. Emmett called someone while they were loading up HD’s truck and a pick-up with Mississippi plates pulled up with Shelley and Jud as they were finishing. They loaded the dining chairs into Jud’s truck and fortunately had the room at their temporary offices to store all of it until the new offices were ready.

After his truck was unloaded Jud took off with Shelley to go continue looking for apartments. Justin mainly kept an eye on Gus and seemed surprised that Brian was actually moving furniture himself.

Emmett was rearranging the dining chairs that Jud had pretty much dumped in the middle of the floor off to the side to make from for the table. So Brian headed out to help HD finish unloading. HD was a worker that was for sure. Not only that but he seemed to enjoy it more than Brian ever enjoyed a work out at the gym. The whole time they’d been loading the truck at the estate sale he’d been humming some tune Brian was sure he knew but couldn’t place. It was going to bug him all day.

Once Emmett’s brother left and they got the sideboard and club chairs in it was just that bitch of a table; even without the leaves in it was unwieldy and the round ends made it hard to grip. The damn thing should break down into parts or something. It was huge but period, perfect for the buildings it would eventually be in. And really who the fuck needed a dining table this big? It would be impressive in a conference room unlike some generic piece of soulless aluminum and particleboard prefab. But damn moving it was a pain in the ass. He had people for this crap, or he used to.

Coming out of the building to where HD was up on the bed of his truck Brian heard him singing. He actually had a good voice and could carry a tune but once he heard the words Brian realized why he hadn’t been able to place it. The original singer was a soprano and HD was anything but as he crooned, “Questions I have many, answers but a few

But we're here to learn, the spirit burns, to know the greater truth

We've all been crucified and they nailed Jesus to the tree

And when I'm born again, you're gonna see a change in me

God made me for a reason and nothing is in vain

Redemption comes in many shapes with many kinds of pain

Oh sweet Jesus if you're listening, keep me ever close to you

As I'm stumblin', tumblin', wonderin', as I'm travelin' thru

I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin' thru oooohooohhhoohhoohoo

I'm just travelin', travelin', travelin', I'm just travelin' thru  oooohooohhhoohhoohoo”

He drifted off into the humming that had originally tweeked Brian’s memory. And the memory of where he’d heard it came flooding back and nearly knocked him on his ass.

He was able to recover, or at least hide his poleaxed expression long enough to unload the table without killing himself or getting a hernia. They’d needed Emmett helping as well to do so. Once they got it off the truck and inside, Brian murmured to Justin, “I need you to do something for me.”

“Sure,” he said while absently looking though Gus’ bag. Gus had dozed off and was in his carrier on the sideboard.

Brian said, “You want food. Take Emmett with you to pick something up over on Carson.”

“Brian, if you make a pass at HD, he will kill you,” Justin said making a face.

He manfully didn’t roll his eyes and said, “Trust me, I’ll tell you later. Just do it.”

“Hey,” Justin called out, “I’m famished. I’m thinking ‘Fatheads’ my treat, Em come with me and help?” He checked Gus one last time and then took Emmett to help him carry and they left.

HD looked at Brian and said, “Subtle you’re not. What’s up?”

“I’m not a big fan of country music, but I recognized that song you were singing earlier,” Brian said. “It was from a movie. It really should have won the Oscar the year it was nominated.” He paused to see if HD would say something but he just looked pale and shaken so Brian added, “2005 wasn’t it?”

“Fuck,” HD said and sat abruptly on one of the club chairs. He leaned forward. Rested his forearms on his knees and put his face in his hands; then he ran his fingers back through his hair as he lifted his face and just stared at Brian. His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper when he asked, “You too?”

Brian turned, walked over to the corner he was using as his office and snagged a couple of Old Fashioned glasses and the bottle of bourbon. He came back, took the other club chair, and poured each of them a generous finger on the low table and handed one to HD. HD promptly threw it back like an old hand. They just stared at each other and finally Brian asked, “So what happened to you?”

“I died,” HD said, “GSW to the chest; 2025.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Brian said.

“No, I don’t recall meeting them,” HD said, “You?”

“Heart attack, 2016,” he said.

HD said, “I wasn’t alone. I mean I was when I died, but when I got here or to then. Jake was Jake. He was really pissed, nearly broke my jaw. I would have fucking freaked, well more than I did, if I was the only one.”

“I was, in the beginning. I didn’t even think to check on anyone else at first. But Justin reset too.” Brian said.

“Reset, huh? Like a saved game. Life’s not supposed to be like that,” HD said. “I had a good life. I was happy. I was in love. It wasn’t a big life or an important life. But I spent almost thirty five years with the first and only man I ever loved. I thought… when Jake died I thought that I would too, or it would all start over again like some morbid Groundhog’s Day. But he, well I now get why he was so pissed at me. And here I am.”

“You’re the first one I told,” Brian said.

“Who the fuck can you tell?” HD said, and then scuffed a hand over his face and added, “Things have changed so much, not just Jake dying. Sep’s better. Before, she never got therapy after her mom, but when I lost Jake this time; she dragged me in and got it with me, grief counseling. It helped her, not like I could explain I was now almost sixty and pissed off that the seven extra years I got with him weren’t enough.”

“How far back did you go?” Brian asked.

HD glared at him and it actually made Brian feel better because trembling and pale wasn’t a good look for him and he said, “1991.”

“Fuck,” Brian said.

“Amen brother, I was back in fucking high school. I didn’t have the aptitude to sit in class all day when I was a teenager; you try it at fifty one. I kept falling asleep; the school nurse was trying to diagnose me with narcolepsy. Jake laughed his ass off, the smug bastard. He was a year ahead of me and had already graduated,” HD said.

“Justin came back in his Junior year,” Brian said, “he went from an independent thirtysomething living in New York to back in his parents’ house. Living with a dad he hadn’t spoken to since he had him arrested.”

“For what? No offence but your boy’s kind of prissy,” HD said.

Brian made a noise and said, “Oh you do not get to call him that when you’re with Emmett.”

“Emmett’s a good ‘ol boy. He could probably kick your skinny ass. And I didn’t mean it as an insult, it’s just I can’t think of anyone less likely to throw a punch – unless it’s that Michael guy,” HD said.

“He picketed his father’s store as a political protest in support of gay marriage,” Brian said.

HD said, “No offence bro, but you don’t give off the marrying kind vibes, if you know what I mean.”

“I asked him, once in 2005. But we never went through with it. For a lot of reasons; but mainly because it would have been for everyone but us,” Brian said.

HD said, “That explains a lot actually, I mean - you two; not that I can’t see that you fit, but he’s eighteen, and you don’t seem the type to like ‘em young.”

“He was the exact same age when we met the first time, only now he didn’t have to wait for me to grow up,” Brian said.

They quietly compared notes on what had happened. HD, on his first time though hadn’t been too attentive to business or the stock market or anything but music and Jake. He kind of remembered the big things but it was different for him. One of the reasons he was investing in Lawrenceville was he remembered when the hospital had gone in property values had skyrocketed. He and Jake had made similar investments through the years. Brian could not imagine ending up thirty five years in the past; or even the twenty five it would have taken to put him in ‘91. The average personal computer had less than 1 megabyte RAM, did the internet even exist in then? He would have been in college, thank God. If he’d have reset back to high school like Justin and HD he’d have been on his way to the gas chamber for pulling a Lizzie Borden.

“I don’t think I can tell Emmett,” HD said, quietly, “even if he would believe me.”

“You can’t overthink it, Justin freezes up at times, terrified he’ll make it worse or do something wrong,” Brian said, “this is it. This is life and we just have to live it. The best we can. If you’re happy, let that be enough. You can’t second guess decisions, especially other people’s. I knew Em, the first time through. He seems happier with you but I don’t know if in the long run his life will be better. That’s still his decision to make and my memories, however real they seem to me don’t give me the right to make any calls for him.”

“Jake would have liked Emmett, a lot,” HD said softly, tilting his head down and looking lost.

Brian felt his own eyes burn, because if something happened to Justin. He remembered long nights with the pungent smell of disinfectant just watching him sleep, listening to the monitor as his heart beat and his lungs filled with air. What would it be like to get pulled back to all of this shit all over again and then have Justin snatched from him? Just the thought was enough to have him contemplating hiring someone with a high powered rifle to see that Chris Hobbes never attended his prom. But then what was to stop him from catching HIV or being hit by a truck or choking on his own vomit. There were so many ways to die for each of them and sometimes the very thought of how this could all be taken from them at any time was enough to have him long for his old pharmaceutical pain management days.

Before they knew it Justin and Emmett were back. Emmett looked surprised that HD was drinking whiskey. Of course they went to ‘Fathead’s’, the proud home of the ‘quad bypass burger’, which Justin ordered. As Brian picked over his grilled shrimp salad he thought about Justin and his eating habits and maybe he shouldn’t be the only one on a heart healthy diet. They’d picked up a six pack of cold beer, probably Justin’s way of justifying dragging Em since he was more than capable of carrying sandwiches himself, and cold soda with their meals and sat at the new conference table eating while Emmett looked concerned and Justin did the WASP/Jedi mind trick projecting ‘there is no elephant in this room’ as he gushed on about the décor of the new offices.

After Mel called to give them the all clear for returning Gus, Brian handed Emmett the remaining four thousand dollars in cash he’d taken from the safe and gave him the okay to pick up any more mid-century modern pieces he felt would go with the new office’s style.

“Why do you keep so much cash at the loft,” Justin asked as they drove to the girls’ place.

Brian shrugged and said, “I didn’t used to but I figured having bail money on hand would come in handy. And sometimes cash talks.”

“I’m glad we updated the alarms, I had no idea that much was in the safe,” Justin said, “Are you going to tell me what was up with you and HD?”

Brian said, “I am. Once we’re home.”

So Justin dropped it and they took Gus in and while Justin and Lindsay did the WASP thing where they talked and talked and said nothing, or rather nothing regarding the pissing match they had had on the way back from the airport, Brian and Mel exchanged exasperated looks regarding avoidance and manners. Justin was updating Lindsay on Em’s brother moving to Pittsburgh, the status of their reno on the new offices and that Gus had finished two full bottles, one at brunch and one just a half an hour ago. Brian wasn’t sure if Mel wanted to chuck something at Lindsay’s head or Justin’s but she looked WASPed out.

“Are you both still living here?” Brian asked Mel, because Lindsay would just tell him it was none of his business.

“For now,” Mel said. “We’re thinking about counseling.”

“Justin’s mom sees Todd’s wife,” Brian said, “Justin doesn’t think too much of Lorraine but he’s biased. Jennifer hasn’t killed Craig in his sleep yet and that’s some serious self-restraint.”

“Why is he biased,” Mel asked.

“I think ‘cause she’s a shiksa,” Brian said, and at Mel’s snort added, “Or maybe because Bertie doesn’t like her.”

+

They made nice and before leaving Brian said, “Let me know if you need us to take him while you sort this out, we don’t really have room for Kal, but if we need to we’ll work something out.”

Justin manfully did not roll his eyes when Lindsay made that pissy look with her mouth but Mel thanked them and they left. As they started on their way toward the loft, Brian said, “You know I’m surprised you haven’t fired her ass.”

Justin sighed and said, “She’s family. She’s Gus’ mom first, our friend second, and only then my ‘agent’. If I was concerned about my fucking art career I would never have hired her, she has no experience and she doesn’t respect me.”

“I don’t want you putting up with shit you would never have stood for from an employee just for me,” Brian said.

Justin said, “I hired her for Gus. I wanted her to spend time with him, without tanking their budget or ruining their marriage, or whatever it is at this stage.”

“Mel’s pissed,” Brian said, “I don’t think Lindsay’s going to be able to smooth this over.”

Justin asked, “You think they’ll split?”

“When Mel cheated and the Frog moved in, they still loved each other, they were more interested in each taking the blame themselves. It was sickening once they were in the same room and talking,” Brian said. “But now, they’re both pointing the finger at the other one.”

Justin said, “Hold on. Lindsay lied, Lindsay cheated and Lindsay abandoned Gus and Mel to do so. What the hell is she blaming Mel for?”

Brian sucked in his bottom lip, and unless Justin missed his guess started worrying it with his teeth. He finally said, “Lindsay – last time – never got that Mel was more betrayed by the fact she banged a guy than that she cheated. Last time, Mel had the experience of having slipped, of being in a headspace where sex with someone who wasn’t Lindsay, wasn’t about Lindsay. Without that, she has both the ‘what the fuck’ aspect of not having thought she had to consider men as competition but she has no way of realizing, no experience herself, of how Lindsay can compartmentalize the attention starved little girl who wants daddy to be proud of her from the mom and wife she gives to Gus and Mel. She expected Mel to understand that this had nothing to do with her.”

“Well she needs to man up and take her punishment and decide what she is,” Justin said. “Bisexuals can be monogamous too, but if she’s interested in having an open relationship - okay fifteen years of Little Miss moral high ground looking down at me and I can say she was never mature enough to have the kind of understanding we had – but if she was, is she prepared for Mel to turn her down and bring a new woman into her life and into their kids’ lives?”

“No. I don’t think they’re that far in the blame game yet. Lindsay feels she’s been punished by it all coming out and people knowing and Gus missing her-” Brian started

“Brian, if I had asked her to… I don’t know, to go to the Atlanta show for me. She would have acted as if I was crazy thinking of sending her away for a weekend, let alone a week. She went from ‘I’ve fallen in love with this little guy, I can’t leave him to go back to work’ to ‘I’ll be back in a week, maybe two’ in the space of three months. This is the second time I’ve lived through this debacle and I’m not in love with her and I feel betrayed,” Justin said.

Brian said, “This is her fault, I see that. But I see her, I know her. This is about Ron and Nancy; this is about her suddenly realizing she’s dropped in social class as well as tax brackets. This is her life now, she’s just realizing that what she thought in college was cutting edge and avant garde, is now pilling like a sweater from the Big Q. She wants it all. She wants her parents to be proud of her and to live her own life. She wants the home and family and the glamour of the cocktail parties – apparently with emphasis on cock. She wants to be the Martha Steward of the mommy brigade in the dyke subculture and be the hot blonde on the back of the Harley.”

He sighed and added, “She’s trying to grow up and this is growing pains. With me, when I didn’t have my shit figured out at thirty, well that was to be expected. Oh Brian, no, no that’s not the way nice people live – but then Brian was the antithesis of nice. Lindsay was Wendy to my Peter. The advantage of being Peter is no one expects much of him. But Wendy, she’s the grown up, and now she’s realizing that she’s not quite as ready to be the staid and upstanding PTA member as she thought she was. It would have been nice if she’d have figured that out before she brought a kid into the mess. And honestly I was hoping we could avoid this but, this shit is what pulled her into adulthood. Real adulthood and not her just looking down her nose from her monogamous high ground.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Brian Kinney,” Justin said. “How are you not seeing red and screaming at the top of your lungs? She left Gus.”

“She left him with me and Mel,” Brian said, soft and tired. “Seriously, as the guy who missed so much of his life; she is never going to get those ten days back. Sure he won’t realize she was gone in the long run but it kills me to realize how much of his life I missed, not only when they were in fucking Canada,” and Brian had a way of saying Canada that sounded like it was Beirut, “but right here three miles away. She is being punished, and she’s just realizing it.”

They parked the car and as they walked up to the loft Justin said, “You’re too fucking forgiving. I like you better angry and vindictive.”

Once inside when Brian had rolled the door shut and thrown the deadbolt, Justin said, “So, what’s up with HD?”

Brian said, “You were right. We’re not the only ones.”

 


	68. Why don't you stay for the night? (Night)

 

Cynthia called at ten o’clock Monday morning. She’d given her two weeks’ notice to Vance and he’d had her escorted out of the building. She was furious and indignant that after working for Ryder for so many years and for putting up with Vance’s shenanigans since he bought it she wasn’t trusted to clean out her desk without a security detail standing over her. She actually used the word shenanigans. Brian refrained from pointing out she was essentially a corporate spy because she had been on Kinnetik’s payroll since it was founded, because he wanted her to, not kill him and to come in and start working after lunch. Lunch he invited her to join him and Ted, at the ‘1902 Tavern’ down off Market Square, to strategize.

He didn’t have an office for her yet the few rooms in there temp office/warehouse being labeled ‘art’ or ‘admin’. But figured she’d make order out of the chaos of their temp space and magically find a way to make it look less like they were staging a campus sit-in or fencing stolen office supplies. In their new building, the asbestos had been removed, the plumbing and electrical updated and it was a relief to know HD had made sure the wiring would handle anything they could throw at it now and twenty years from now. The walls that needed to be had been knocked out and those remaining stripped down to the plaster, skim coated and painted but the building still didn’t look to be ready before late June.  They had to be out of their temp offices before July first because the new tenant required serious reno to the building. So he’d told HD to hire more people if he had to but find a way, because he didn’t want another short term lease. HD had just growled ‘I knew you’d be a bitch to work for’; which made Brian kind of want to hire him for more renos. Cynthia however could always find a way around problems and he needed that very badly right now.

As he entered the tavern he saw Ted at a table for two and had the hostess get them something larger. He retrieved Ted who followed him back to their new booth and after they ordered drinks asked, “What’s up?”

“I asked Cynthia to join us. She’s going to be pissy; Vance is on her last nerve. She gave him the courtesy of two weeks’ notice and he fired her and had security escort her out,” Brian said.

Ted snorted and said, “Talk about burning bridges. How has he been such a success if he alienates people like that?”

“I don’t know, lowballs the offer then strips the place for parts?” Brian said. “Even if he assumes she is going to a competitor why not court her as a contact in the other camp? You’ve met Cynthia, right?”

Ted said, “Just at the funeral home.” He looked kind of sorry for mentioning it and Brian figured for most people, normal people; it would be a sore subject.

He waived it away and said, “Justin calls her my work-wife; she brings organization and order and never loses her head in a crisis. She calm, competent and I trust her implicitly. Never hesitate to let her in on anything work related, she’s tapped into the industry, has good instincts and is fast on the uptake, you’ll like her.”

“Before she gets here,” Ted said, “I wanted to ask, how are Mel and Lindsay? Are they splitting up?”

“Theodore. When you have kids in the mix, even when you split you’re never really apart,” Brian said. “It’s too soon to tell, they have six years of history and I firmly believe they love each other but this is not something I’m going to gossip about. They’re the mothers of my children and I’m caught right there in the middle with the kids. However, I will go on record that Mel needs all the friends she can get in this and since she trusted you to let you know what was going on, and other than me and Justin - who found out because Lindsay used him as a cover story - no one else knows, so that shows she trusts you and considers you a friend.”

“I want to be there for her, but I have zero knowledge of babies or women,” Ted said.

Brian said, “Maybe that’s better. I’m sure every dyke in the ‘burgh has an opinion of what she should do or what she should have done. Maybe since you don’t know what to tell her you’ll just listen.”

Fortunately that was when Cynthia joined them and the girl talk stopped. They reviewed where they were staffing wise and how the finances were going. As well as the welcome problem that business had been booming. The tavern was packed by the time she got there and given Vance stuck to chain restaurants and was more likely to hit somewhere near Grant they could have met there even before she was a free agent. Cynthia was ready to hit the ground running but wanted to know when she could get a look at the reno site. Brian knew it wasn’t idle curiosity, she probably needed an idea of just how large the staff could get and how fast. They did need a larger art department; Justin had a little over a month left in high school, barring tragedy, before he could put in full days and hopefully help get in some people Brian could work with before college started. He said he’d call and see if HD could arrange a time that wouldn’t hold up the crew.

+

Monday was the last day of April. Justin could honestly say he had no idea what he had done the whole day. He stopped in the office in the morning and picked up a schedule for any makeup tests from when he was off, he spent both of his study halls being proctored on something but seriously, no idea. Brian’s little bombshell about HD dying in 2025 and ending up in 1991 back in high school; well part of him wanted to cut school, track HD down and compare notes and the rest wanted to pull the covers over his head and stay in bed all day. He went through his classes as if he’d been hit in the head, and having been hit in the head he knew what he was talking about.

More than anything he wanted to track HD down and grill him. Ten years; he’d been at this, whatever this was, for ten years. If they made it here in this now for ten years would he finally relax would he finally stop waiting for it to end? Maybe HD wasn’t the one he should ask, because if HD was relaxed about it, if this had become routine it was only because the worst had happened already for him. His love, his one and only, the man that defined his life the way Brian had defined Justin’s was gone. Slipped away after a mere seven years; mere in relation to the lifetime they’d had together their first time through. He wanted to cry for them and he’d never met Jake, and if Jake hadn’t died he would never have met HD; or at least in the capacity of Emmett’s boyfriend.

The girls were fussing over him and he was glad Daphne reminded him they were going out to catch up after school because he forgot. He texted Brian and instead of heading for ‘Coldstone’ they hit ‘Whole Foods’ and grabbed two half gallons of ice cream, high-end French Vanilla and Chocolate Peanut Butter, a box of ‘Walker’s’ shortbread cookies and a couple bowls and spoons from the dollar store – he really should stock the studio with dishes - before heading to his studio.

Sitting with their plunder at the built in banquette Daphne said, “You are scaring the fuck out of me. This is your equivalent of a bottle of vodka. What is going on?”

Justin had pondered what to tell Daphne, he couldn’t go with the truth now any more than when this all started but with what was going on with the girls, he did have a reason to be out of is so he said, “This is only for your ears,” and then he stopped not because he didn’t trust her but while he knew what he would tell her he wasn’t sure how to say it, “Lindsay… you know how she was away, when Brian’s dad died.” At Daphne’s nod he said, “She told Mel she was working for me, in New York, she said she was there meeting with gallery owners regarding my work.”

He must not have been getting to the point fast enough because Daphne said, “What work? Other than that new thing you did for the History Centre all you do is draw naked Brian.”

“She lied, Daph,” Justin said, “she went to New York with this artist. His name is Sam Auerbach. He’s kind of skeevy. I’ve heard of him around, he sounds like some hetro horndog, you know the type they fancy themselves a lady’s man and all it means is they can close a deal but not deliver the goods.”

Daphne swallowed the ice cream in her mouth too fast and did the brain freeze squint while gasping out, “I thought she was a lesbian.”

“The sad, sad thing is even at thirty or however old she is, you can still be trying to figure shit out. She thinks I’m too young to discuss it with, so I don’t know if she was suddenly overcome with a deep need for cock or if there is any rational explanation for why her sudden self-discovery involved ditching her kid and her pregnant partner to shack up with some old, hairy, out-of-shape, self-important, married, art-hack who apparently finds bagging a dyke to be inspirational.”

“Tell me how you really feel, Justin,” Daphne drawled.

Justin chose to ignore the sarcasm said, “Mad as hell. She lied to Mel and to Brian. Both of them were worried when she didn’t return their calls. She was in another city and for all they knew dead or hospitalized. But when Mel finally tracked her down, since she wasn’t returning the voice mails, she called this Sam guy’s phone at six thirty on Saturday morning and he rolled over and gave the phone to Lindsay.”

“Oh. My. God.” Daphne said.

“Brian had called her Thursday night, said ‘call me, it’s about Gus’ and she didn’t call him back until Wednesday,” Justin said, “The day after his father died. And he’s being all fucking understanding – I want to pelt her with rotten vegetables and he’s all – this is growing pains, she obviously didn’t think through how much responsibility a child would be, she’s bound to make mistakes, at least she left Gus with me and Mel.”

“No offence, I’m just going by how you describe him, but that’s not Brian. Brian would… well not throw tomatoes at her but maybe pay someone to throw tomatoes at her,” Daphne said.

“Thank you,” Justin said. “But here’s the thing. It’s Lindsay.”

“Translation please,” Daphne asked while she dishing up some more Chocolate Peanut Butter.

Justin smiled and said, “She’s his Daphne. I mean Michael has known him the longest, but there’s a lot of shit he’s just incapable of understanding. Not that he’s a complete idiot-”

“Just a partial idiot?” Daph cut in, “You’re kind of obvious in your distaste.”

“Let’s just say I’ll be glad if and when he grows up,” Justin said.

Daphne smirked and said, “You think he might not?”

“I have the feeling Dave is perfectly fine with Michael remaining a perpetual adolescence and Michael, unlike me, would be perfectly willing to let someone run his life for him,” Justin said.

Daphne said, “Is that surprising? God that Debbie is a nightmare. She thinks she knows best about everything. Thank God for Vic or Hunter would be screwed, or out of there knowing him. I don’t think he’s cut from the same cloth as Michael. Hunter has had enough of other people fucking him over,” and then she paused as if realizing what she said was in poor taste and smacked her hand to her forehead, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I got it,” Justin smiled, because yeah she was Daphne – not a lesbian but a big fan – her heart was always in the right place even if sometimes her words were all over. “But back to Lindsay, see Michael for good or ill has Debbie, the homo cheerleader. Lindsay and Brian, they lost their families because of their sexuality. For ten years they’ve been each other’s touchstone, Brian didn’t tell his family but he knew it would be just like Lindsay or even worse since her parents are more concerned about their standing at the club and Brian’s mom at least really believes he’s unclean, perverse and damned.”

“Whoa, that’s super harsh,” Daphne said, “he told you this?”

“She said it, loud and clear at his dad’s funeral,” Justin said, “It’s been a fucking hell of a week.”

“Dude,” she said, her eyes were tearing up and she jumped up and came over and squeezed in beside him and hugged him.

Justin swallowed the lump in his throat because, Daphne. She may not yet be all she was but God, she always had his back his voice was harsh when he said, “He’s been dealing with all the shit, pain, memories of growing up in that hellhole and he loved his dad, he didn’t want to but kids love their parents and that’s why they can hurt us so much. He has all this baggage that… he doesn’t want to fuck up Gus the way his parents did him and this is all hitting now while Mel’s pregnant. The stress is really bad for her. She had to have an operation to get pregnant and she’s like - really small, I mean Lindsay has what I’d call child-bearing hips but Mel is tiny like you.” He shuddered at the memory of Daphne’s sixteen hours of labor with Marcus.

“I’m not tiny, you’re a giant. And dear God Justin if you value your life never tell Lindsay she has child-bearing hips,” Daphne said into his chest, probably wiping her eyes and snot all over him.

+

Emmett swept into the loft. With Jud having a place of his own now all the pocket doors were rolled back and the screens tucked away and he could see his office, and into the bedroom. It would be another couple hours until Huxley made it home. He’d been so quiet when they got home last night, not that he was ever one to chatter away but this had felt different. When Emmett had asked what was wrong he’d just shrugged and said he and Brian had been talking about death and dying and Jake. Surprising, because despite seeming to get along, the two of them were not exactly the kind to open up or talk about feelings.  Emmett liked to think he was pretty good at reading Huxley there was a lot going on under the surface. His grief over losing Jake had seasoned him in a way most men their age weren’t. He was less quick to speak and almost fatherly to his younger cousin. Emmett guessed that with Brian losing his dad Huxley had felt compelled to talk with him, he knew September and he had attended grief counseling together, her for her mother and him for Jake but hoped that he hadn’t suggested it to Brian. As tough as his man was he didn’t like to think of Brian ripping into him with that venomous tongue of his.

Emmett put his satchel in his office and kicked off his shoes. He’d left his umbrella out in vestibule between the elevator and their entrance. It was pouring. Lord he hoped it didn’t flood. He thought he’d left all that when he left Mississippi, but his first winter here a fast melt in January had shut down the city. If it hadn’t been for Godiva he’d have ended up in a shelter. His building had been evacuated and it went down to five degrees that night. Well there was one advantage to being on the fifth floor.

He considered putting his feet up and resting a bit. He’d had a busy day, meeting two clients, well three but he really didn’t consider September’s dad a client; but he wanted Emmett to put together something unique for her graduation party in June. Em also tightened up details on a venue,’ The University Club’s’ terrace for a retirement party for a local big wig. Negotiated a discount for his future business from Eileen a lovely tranny who ran the photocopy place on Liberty, really for all but the most chichi do-s high quality copies were just as good as printing.

He was trying to throw business to locals in the community but really some of these fags were so indiscrete. It was one thing to sit around the diner after a night at a club and speculate regarding who hooked up with who and another to spill details from your customers. He’s stopped in at Alex’s shop to place an order for a center piece for the retirement do and Alex had spilled details about Justin shopping with Brian’s AMEX; like that was news anyway. Emmett had done his best to give him a heads-up by asking how most customers paid for funeral flowers but he had a feeling Alex hadn’t gotten it and was spreading the word that Justin was Brian’s kept boy. As if there would be anything wrong with that, few relationships had total power and economic equity. If Justin didn’t come from money Brian would have no problem footing his bills. It made Emmett wonder what the bitchy little queen was spreading about him. He was sure that his quitting his job and opening a business just as they moved in together had Alex saying he was the gold-digger in his and HD’s relationship.

He checked his voice mail. Melinda called saying she had a cancelation on June 10 and he should let her know if he was interested. Em was almost giddy; he had a contact at Phipps now, and was hoping to be her go to person for unexpected cancellations. She’d been pleased with the wedding he had unexpectedly slotted in at less than two weeks’ notice and how well it went off. Em had attentively listened to her horror stories on how much damage some people would do to the gardens during their events. He checked his calendar he didn’t have anything on that day yet. But checking the notes from his contact with September’s dad, they were debating whether to have the party at his place – which was so dreary, you would think no on lived there – or the Payne’s, which was gated and not prone to a party which would have many drop-ins from there class. Since the girls had been all but inseparable for years now their parents thought a joint party might be best. Of course September’s dad was cutting it pretty close to the wire. He’d pretty much called Emmett, not to throw business the way for family but because when he called his club to see if they could throw something together they laughed and explained they were booked with parties for other members who had kids graduating.

He called Melinda and left a voice mail, yes he was interested and could fill it but would he be able to get the same late slotting discount he’d received for the wedding? He told her to call and let him know a good time to drop off the deposit. After that he called James Dae, September’s dad, and was surprised to get though since he’d been on his way to the airport when they spoke earlier.

“James? Emmett Honeycutt. Is this a bad time?” He started. “I can book Phipps Conservatory on Sunday, June 10th, I figure its right there in Shenley Park, it will give the feeling of Summer and the outdoors without having to worry about the party being rained out.”  He listened and added, “Rather than you getting back to me on the guest list, since this isn’t a surprise party, why don’t I coordinate with September and Tracy?” He wrapped up the call quickly; at least James knew the phone number of the Payne’s.

Honestly, it was obvious he loved his daughter and Emmett didn’t want to overstep his bounds but really thought that he should put on the prep list a note to call and threaten him regarding attending as the date approached because paying for a lavish party was not nearly as important as showing up for both it and her graduation. Still they were Huxley’s family and the Good Lord knew he wasn’t in any position to throw stones in that department.

+

Brian parked in the empty lot down from the building site. Even though the large skip that had spent a month or more parked in front in various stages of fullness was gone, the street in front of the building was still crowded with equipment and vehicles. The vacant lot at the end of the block had been easy to acquire and fast to get paved. It would do for employee parking but they would need some sort of way to keep the cars safe, maybe hire some of the local elderly part time and put up a climate controlled booth with a phone to call for help.

Cynthia asked, “Is this ours?”

“Yeah, I have signs going up that its permit only and all others will be towed. Not that anyone would want to park in this neighborhood but you know what people do for free parking in this ‘burgh.” Brian said.

Cynthia added, “The number of cars sunk in the Mon for cheap parking alone would fill the airport lot.”

“It’s not the best location but it has character, and it’s not like advertising needs walk in traffic,” Brian said.

Cynthia stopped and actual crossed the street, away from the buildings to take in all four together. The windows had all been replaced. The store fronts had been reworked and instead of large plate windows with a door on the left of each in the center two buildings, there was one big grand entrance with windows on either side. Above the grand entrance a long stained glass transom had ‘Kinnetik’ against a background of long thin red rectangles, four stacked rows like bar codes, mostly in dark or vibrant red with an occasional yellow or orange in to break it up. The letters for ‘Kinnetik’ were in a purple so dark it was nearly black and it would look amazing after dark when lit from within. The lines of the building were still very turn of the century, more beau arts style than art deco especially around the roof line balustrade. But in a row all together they had the symmetry to appear to be all one building especially with the work HD had done to the front ground level entrance.

“It’s a good choice,” she pronounced after a moment, “we’ll have room to grow and it will be good for this neighborhood. It’s close to Oakland for the interns and we can get a lot of mileage in regard to revitalizing the community. Half those deals cut by the downtown initiatives do more harm than they save money. ‘Lord and Taylor’ is bolting as soon as the tax abatement expires and the restaurants that bank on it change hands as soon as they have to start paying taxes. We’ll be the ones who stay, who build something and contribute to this city.”

They crossed the street; Wade met them with hard hats and took them in. Immediately inside there was a large open area. It would be reception, there were facilities already installed, a large office in what was once the front of the building to the right of the shops, which would probably be from where Cynthia ran everything. On the other side, that you got to by going around the facilities, where the building to the left of the two shops had been was a large conference room, empty except for a large stained glass insert, similar to the one above the door, without the firms name, just the same bar code like shards in various blues with an occasional green in for variety. Not just decorative it hid glass block windows, given the neighborhood Brian had wanted to keep the light but also insure security.

“This is where you got that big table for?” she said. “Okay that was a good choice.” Privately Brian thought their offices were going to end up looking like the set of ‘Mad Men’ but figured they had a couple years to combine Justin’s love of the Rat Pack with his own preference for clean modern lines before people accused them of being rabid fans.

The back of the side that had the conference room had a small security center, were banks of monitors would show interior and exterior shots and a guard station.

HD had added a glass elevator and large airy staircase where the stores loading docks had been. That had been a bitch getting approved by the city but they subcontracted the work out to some official’s brother-in-law and got the go ahead - all part of HD’s letting corruption work for you school of getting it done. He’d pointed out if Brian thought Pittsburgh was bad he should try adding an addition to a house in some of the small boroughs in the surrounding counties.

The second and third floors were still a mess so they just peeked in and tried not to disturb the crews. The top floor had been opened up, and that involved many steel supports being hidden in the ceiling.  Huge skylights were above; the windows had all single pieces of glass instead of being divided by grills.  Where there weren’t skylights there were inset canister lights. What walls weren’t widows were yellow, not too vibrant but Justin said it promoted creativity. The floor was wide walnut hardwood, salvaged from a church and would have area rugs to designate work stations. There were two large offices along the back wall of this floor on either side of its own conference room. One would be for Justin, and the other the head of the art department, which they hadn’t told Shelley yet would be her.

 Brian’s office would be on the third floor, with another conference room and the bulk of the administrative and production staff - God help them. The second floor would mostly be sales and marketing. It would also have a kitchen and break area, at Justin’s insistence; which was understandable, given the neighborhood people would not just stroll out of the building to go to lunch. Due to how many irons he had in the fire, Brian wasn’t stupid enough to try and do it all. He was going to have Ron head up the sales staff with Todd in line as his back up.

“We’re really doing this?” Cynthia said, as if going over the books and their current account lists for the past three hours hadn’t been proof enough. Still he got it; he remembered opening their first offices. Roaming though the space that had been the baths and feeling like a lion marking its den. Something about putting your mark on a place made the idea of the company as a living entity real in a way that cash in the bank never could.

Cynthia’s current gentleman friend picked her up. He worked in Greentree so they had time to go over the whole building before he stopped for her. She had bussed in but would be driving to their digs in the South Side going forward.

As she was leaving HD came up from the third floor and said, “Got a minute to review the plans, boss.”

“Yeah, let’s do it at my place. I want to be there when Justin gets back, and I think he wants to talk to you,” Brian said.

HD took off his hard hat and ran his fingers back through his hair before saying, “Alright, but I got my own man to get home to, so no more whiskey.”

+

Justin walked up the stairs to the loft. The one advantage of pigging out with Daphne over ice cream rather than alcohol was no hangover but he hoped Brian didn’t want dinner, because - blergh. When he rolled open the door of the loft he saw Brian and HD going over the spread out blue prints, the table was extended but not to nine feet and they both had bottles of beer currently holding the curling pages flat.

He tried to reconcile the young man, who was physically younger than he had been before this had all started, as a near sixty year old and just couldn’t wrap his mind around it. HD was Emmett’s age and bore a more than passing resemblance to Chris Hemsworth, taller for sure and with much lighter eyes but big, handsome, powerful. Even in his thirties, as Justin was mentally at least, sixty seemed old to him.

Well his overindulgence with Daphne was forgotten that was for sure. Jumping in with a billion questions would probably send HD bolting for the door but he had so much he wanted to ask that he ended up just standing and staring like an idiot. Both Brian and HD had looked up when the door rolled open and were just watching him stare, Brian with an amused smirk and HD with, well kind of a sad look of understanding.

So the three of them sat at the dining table and went over their stories. HD said, “This would be easier if we came back with anything, without my I-Dent I have no clue what happened when, I used that thing for everything.”

“What’s an I-Dent?” Justin asked.

HD blinked, swallowed and said, “Never mind, they won’t be out for twenty years or so, it’s kind of like the old folio fax, and an I-Pod, cellphone, PC, credit/debit card and medical and genetic records all rolled into one, it’s about the size of the alarm fobs on keychains.”

Now it was Justin’s turn to blink because yeah, next to Brian he had missed his Smartphone most when he got back here, or rather now. Brian had also been used to having the internet in his hand and found having to wait to research until he was sitting at a computer a pain in the ass.

Unlike Justin, HD hadn’t spent much time pondering the why of what happened. For him, it just did. Justin wished, but did not voice it, that he could have spoken to Jake. Like him, Jake hadn’t died. According to HD the band had reformed to play a benefit for a major natural disaster. He’d growled it didn’t matter which one if they were all around in 2025 he’d warn him before it hit. He’s been loading some equipment up after the show and some asshole had taken exception to his girlfriend’s interest in the band. As the asshole had been expressing his displeasure, physically, HD had pulled him off her. Unfortunate the drunk girlfriend saw her very large rescuer as a threat and in defense of her abusive boyfriend had pulled a gun from her purse and shot him point blank in the chest. Jake, his brother Marc and Marc’s best friend who had played with them that night came running at the sound of the shot but he was dead by the time he hit the ground.

Jake was the one who lost him. The one who buried him and probably like Justin couldn’t even conceive of going on. HD like Brian wasn’t even aware he died. He’d woken to the sight of the roof of the cap over the bed of the truck he had slept in the summer between his Junior and Senior year in high school. His sleeping sixteen year old brother next to him; he’d slid out the tailgate looking around in confusion not knowing which fairground parking lot they were in but remembering the summer his band toured most of the surrounding states.

He turned at a noise to see Jake, as a skinny eighteen year old, throwing a punch at him. They’d both ended up on the gravel of the parking lot in a vicious hissing argument. Jake was mad as hell at HD for dying and HD didn’t know what he was talking about or how they both ended up where and when they were. What had ensued was an almost comedic story of trying to get time alone to talk it out without the rest of the band catching on.

Justin was frustrated that HD didn’t have any answers. And more frustrated that he didn’t seem to think there were any. When Justin voiced his speculations regarding love and destiny and second chances HD’s scowl darkened and he growled, “That’s very ‘Princess Bride’, Buttercup; but the world don’t work that way. Serial killers win the lottery; good people like Godiva waste away from incurable diseases and no matter what rules you adhere to, no matter how carefully you plan, no matter how transcendent your love is; it didn’t have anything to do with this.”

Justin thought it was funny he wasn’t intimidated by the big scowling man. But he’d been trying to wrap his brain around what it must be like. If it had been hard for him being dumped into his seventeen year old body in his thirties, what must it have been like for HD in his fifties? HD, since Brian and he had compared notes, didn’t treat him like a kid that alone would have earned him some slack and he hadn’t really treated him in a dismissive fashion before he knew. He’d grouped him, with all of September’s friends, as old enough to make their own decisions but young enough to still be surprised when the world bit them in the ass as a result.

“How can you be sure? I remember being so angry at myself, for living apart, for wasting so much time and thinking if I could just do it over that I’d trade all the time I had left,” Justin said.

It wasn’t HD that answered him; it was Brian who said, “Jesus, Justin. You don’t think every parent who’s watched there kid dying of cancer wouldn’t trade their life? Couples who have loved for decades watching one of them face Alzheimer’s; or who have just found each other only to have violence or accidents rip all the might have beens from them. We’re not that different. We’re not special. Unless you think all of them get a second chance.”

“Maybe they do?” HD said, decidedly unconcerned he had spun Justin’s world with those words. “Maybe this is what happens to everyone, but we’re all so damn scared to have everyone think we’re crazy that no one lets on; makes as much sense as anything else; and if it is or isn’t, how’s it change anything?”

Their talk turned to Emmett and how it seemed flat out impossible for HD to tell him, well anything that would make sense. As HD was packing up the plans Justin said, “I’ve been thinking. Brian, you had reasoned out why this was unlikely to have happened to Em or Ted or Michael; but what if it did; only it happened before. What if the first time we lived through it, or what we remember as the first time, it was one of their second times?”

“Huh?” HD looked at him like he was speaking in tongues, but Brian obviously followed and didn’t look happy about it.

Brian crossed to the bar cart, poured himself some Beam and came back and said, “So if I’m following you, one of the others, for instance Emmett, lived and died and never left Hazlehurst. Second time around he leaves town and moves to Pittsburgh, so there was a version of us, that never knew him and he wasn’t here when we lived and died the first time, then he reset, then we all lived until 2015, I died, and we came back to start again. So we all live this now forward, until what, Michael dies and we all reset back to a different date? This is why we can’t think about this. We just have to go forward. And seriously, I love you but I want you to stop saying shit like that it’s going to make my brain leak out my ears. I can only handle ‘All the Myriad Ways’ when I’m stoned.”

“I don’t love you,” HD said, “and you’re going to give me fucking nightmares so cut it out. I can’t live through another reset even if it meant avoiding brain damage and being able to see color again. I really mean it - Jake drove himself crazy, read all kinds of shit on the Illuminati and DMT and more screw ball theories than you would possibly believe existed. He was Catholic; real Catholic. And he needed this all to make sense for there to be a reason for it all to be connected to some higher power. Punishment verses salvation and guilt, lots of guilt for things way beyond any of our control. Don’t waste the time you have on all that nonsense. Because the one certainty I can give you is there is never enough time. There just isn’t. So instead of wasting it on whatever you wasted it on before now you’re wasting it on trying to figure this all out. Stop. Right now, stop. You’re here, he’s here, let that be enough. Everything else is just a distraction, let it go; or you’ll both be right back to cursing yourselves when one of you dies again.”

So HD left and Justin and Brian got into the biggest fight they’d had since the reset. Brian, not so much pushing him off a cliff, tried to tear down the cliff so he didn’t have a chance to fall. Justin proposed ditching college all together so they could work together every day. Brian put his foot down regarding Justin having a fucking life of his own, and not needing to be babysat. Justin pointing out that school was driving him crazy, and while he was willing to stick out the next month until graduation he really didn’t think college was necessary. Brian bringing up all the problems with Mel and Lindsay and how Justin shouldn’t be wasting his youth catering to two hormonal dykes and that because of Brian he might end up juggling the suburban nightmare they both had done their best to avoid last time.

It was all going the way of most of their arguments, gearing up to some spectacular sex, when Brian made the suggestion that the reset might be so Justin could start again with a more suitable partner, closer to his own age and more willing to change his life. That Brian was being selfish with the demands of his life and kids. That maybe this was Justin’s chance to find a less damaged more open and giving partner.

“I don’t want ‘that guy’. What you’ve described is a bland two dimensional sham of a relationship. It’s not love it’s a lifestyle choice. A desperate stop-gap to growing old alone that can have central casting fill the role with any inoffensive rom-com lead. I want you. Brian, you make me furious, you make me think, you make me incoherent and confused you have me cursing the shortcomings of the English language when it comes to describing your snarky insightfully brutal and flippant opinions, observations and counterpoints. I’ve never been more alive, more cognizant, more self-actualized than when I am with you. I am selfish. I want the best life I can have and that means you’re in it, every day, every night so just stop second-guessing me or listening to people who can’t live their own lives and want to put their foot in ours. You. Me. We’re in this together. I really don’t have to go to college you know, we can just pick up and move – pick a city. You know and I know we can make Kinnetik a success anywhere.”

“I can sell Kinnetik,” Brian countered. “You understand that? I have and continue to take advantage of my knowledge of the market turns. Can you even comprehend what liquefying assists on September tenth and then repurchasing when the market crashes after September eleventh will net? Ted already thinks I’ve made some deal with the devil just based on the kind of gains I’ve seen since Gus was conceived. We can travel if you want, but as long as the girls are here, with the kids, Pittsburgh will have to be a focal point.”

It degenerate from there not loud angry arguing but the ‘I don’t know what do you want to do’ of bored thirteen year old boys. It turned out they had both been actively and subconsciously sticking to a script or an outline of the plot they had lived though over the past fifteen years. Frustrating, limiting and confusing, since they were each only aware of slices of what had shaped those events not the whole picture.

Emmett was certainly happier and that had been though no planning of their own, rather an accidental result of September ending up Justin’s friend instead of just Daphne’s. Michael was still with David, although why Hank was coming to spend the summer, rather than David going back to Portland neither could figure out or at least trace it back to any action on their part. Ted was only partially invested in the porn industry, hiring both an HR firm to take care of the payroll and background checks but also site managers in the form of local theater majors. The site operated 24/7 out of the top floor of a warehouse he rented from a property management business TKVC had invested in. Ted had formed an LLC both to offset the risk and keep his name from being tied to the company too publically. He was currently shopping the company to some of the ‘A’ gays to see about liquidated that investment or part of it. In that case Brian could trace some of his advice to Ted or just his own example of spreading risk and selling for profit on some of his investments.

The girls were being frustratingly human, self-determined and unaware of any plot points they were missing or script they weren’t sticking to. There was a very real chance they could split. If they did would they continue to be involved with each other’s children? Mel was certainly attached to Gus but she had previously in following Lindsay’s desire to avoid unpleasantness left Gus when she had Lindsay had split during the Frog debacle. There was a real concern that the only contact the siblings they would each have would be through Brian. Would Guy show up in the picture? Would Auerbach? Would Mel turn to some other dyke for support and understanding? All of this was just as out of their control as figuring out how they came to be in this place and time.

+

HD got off the elevator. The doors to the loft were open. It was nice smelling dinner cooking and knowing Emmett was waiting for him. Jake really would have liked Em. They’d have argued like cats and dogs given Em was a perpetual optimist and Jake tended to expect and try to prepare for the worst.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said by way of greeting.

Em smiled and said, “You’re not that late and its stew, the longer it cooks the better it tastes.”

“Brian wanted to go over the specs. He brought Ms. Moore with him to look over the building. I get the feeling she’s even more impatient than him to move in. I stopped for movies, you want to make it a night in?” he asked heading into the bedroom to change.

Em called over from setting dinner out on the table and said, “That sounds nice. What did you get?” Since HD had left them on the kitchen island as he crossed to the bedroom he just watched Em go over and start sort through the DVD boxes after he’d asked. Emmett read, “’Back to the Future,’ ‘Peggy Sue Got Married,’ and ‘Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure’.”

In response to the raised eyebrow and suspicious look HD said, “It’s a theme.”  


 


	69. Or maybe a bite? (Bite)

 

In all of the hubbub with the funeral, the new business and the dyke drama, Justin almost forgot Mother’s Day was coming.  He could hardly believe it was a year since he’d painted the portraits of his mom, sister and grandmother. He idly wondered if Michael remembered him almost running into him in the Big Q back when he was hauling his grandmother’s gift around. He also remembered; despite his getting cards for Molly she had been displeased that she didn’t have a gift and he had arranged something without her. At the time he’d forgotten that up until that point they generally combined resources, either getting a gift together or getting gifts that went together, like a necklace and matching earrings.

He was kind of glad that Monica had brought up Mother’s Day at lunch, not only for the reminder but to get ideas. Sep even contributed and said she generally got something for her Aunt Maureen on Mother’s Day. He laid his problem with his little sister and gifts before girls and they started spouting ideas, most of which they’d done in previous years. Jewelry, accessories, even plants. The gift was only the start of the problem, Molly was old enough to be involved in the selection and Justin really kind of felt they should spend some time together, before his dad got on one of his ‘keep the homosexuals away from my little girl’ kicks again.

Finally Brittney said, “You know what would have been the coolest at that age? Hanging with the big kids. Let’s book ‘Color Me Mine’ and bring pizza and pop and just hang with her for couple hours , we can paint junk and you both can make something for your mom and grandma for Mother’s Day. We all can. They don’t just have coffee mugs you can get some really cool stuff there.”

So that was planned for Thursday, but he still needed to check with his mom to see if Molly was available and on Daphne’s recommendation he would tell Molly she could invite a friend her own age if she wanted. However he was stumped with how they would get his mom’s permission without telling her what they were doing. It should be an exercise in espionage worth of Austin Powers. Given that it was Dad who would want to know maybe he should get him involved with keeping Mom from finding out, but then it his dad was far more likely to find a reason to prevent Molly from spending time with him.

It was no wonder he forgot Mother’s Day. The big May date for him was May twenty third. Justin had made up a countdown calendar just for it and that calendar was on the fridge at the loft and Brian hadn’t even had a hissy fit. May twenty third was not just two days after Brian’s birthday and it wasn’t just two days before Prom. May twenty third was exactly twenty six weeks from the day Gus was born. May twenty third was the day Gus got moved to solid food. Obviously Justin’s priorities had seriously shifted since the first time through.

+

Brian stopped in the diner for lunch. Not normally something he did when it meant driving over from the South Side. Apparently Mel and Ted had talked and she must have given him the okay to let people know she and Lindsay were having a rocky patch and were in counseling. So Ted spilled it to Michael, and apparently Debbie though why Debbie was concerned or involved was beyond him. Michael had called immediately after he heard wanting to meet for lunch. Brian had to bite his tongue to keep from asking Mikey if he’d quit his job because the man never seemed to be at work.

“You do know I have a job, in fact my job creates jobs for my staff. I can’t just come running to gossip,” Brian said by way of greeting as he slid into the booth.

Michael dismissed it with a look and said, “You have to eat. Why would you not tell me about Mel and Lindsay?”

“For the same reasons I wouldn’t make any issues you and Dave have the talk of Liberty Avenue. Because I don’t gossip about friends and the girls have a right to iron things out without input from the fucking gay community,” Brian said, and then added to Debbie, “turkey on whole wheat, no mayo.”

“Hello to you to,” Debbie said.

“I’m not the gay community you asshole, I’m your best friend,” Michael said.

Brian came back with, “and they are the mothers’ of my children and deserve some time and space to figure out where they are and where they’re going.”

“I shouldn’t have had to hear this from Ted,” Michael said.

Brian said, “You shouldn’t have heard it from anyone. What business of it of yours what the state of Mel and Lindsay’s relationship is? Should we post updates on you and Dave and let ever fag in here get a vote on what you and he what position you and he should try next?

“So what happened,” Deb asked.

Brian said, “You’ll have to ask Mel or Lindz, I’m staying out of it.”

“Brian,” Michael started, and Brian made a mental note to grill Ted on just what information he’d leaked.”

“Are they splitting up?” Debbie asked.

Brian said, “What part of I’m staying out of it is unclear here? I am not alienating either of my son’s mothers.”

“Gus is Lindsay’s,” Debbie said. “If they split up he’ll go with her.”

Brian said, “Gus has three parents; legally we all have shared custody. If they split up, he will still have three parents. Mel is carrying his brother or sister and together or separately that new child will have three parents as well.”

“A baby needs to be with his mother,” Debbie persisted.

Brian glared at her and then tried to remember he was older and wiser and how much he’d missed Debbie after she died so he didn’t go off on her. He took a deep breath, thought about swallowing his anger and then thought, ‘what the fuck’ and didn’t do the smart, grown up thing. He said, “Listen to me. Are you listening? While I have the utmost respect for all the sacrifices you made to raise Michael on your own, I would think the last week of St. Joan’s guide to motherhood would let you now that a uterus does not give women divine insight into the care and healthy development of children. I firmly believe that regardless of the genders of those parents that having more than one parent is critical not only for the child but for the parent.”

Debbie opened her mouth to jump in but Brian cut her off and said, “I can’t imagine the pressure of lying in bed at night, even if everything was going well and money was coming in, just knowing that if you got sick or hurt or died, that your kid wouldn’t have anyone to take care of him, that he’d be pulled into the system. Having a partner or spouse or just the other parent, even if you’re not involved with the other parent, it takes some of that weight; that worry off, having two other parents lets you breathe a sigh of relief. Kids pick up on that worry, that uncertainty; they need to know their parents have back up. It’s also better for kids to see adults working together, they develop coping and socializing skills by watching their parents interact. Seeing Mel and I or Lindsay and I, just firm up plans or pick up times or who will do what will teach Gus life skills. It’s good for him to learn that people have to get along even if they don’t agree.”

Debbie huffed, “Well, I managed and Michael turned out fine.”

After she left to put in their orders Michael said, “She’s real sensitive since I didn’t grow up with a dad.”

“You had Vic as a role model,” Brian said, “And at least you didn’t have parents sticking together who should have just called it quits.”

Michael made a face and said, “You’re not worried about that are you, with Mel and Lindsay.”

“If I was I wouldn’t have agreed to be the father,” Brian said. “Mel and Lindsay are good people. The last thing they need is everyone jumping in with their two cents.”

Michael said, “I’m kind of surprised you agreed, not only to Mel but to Lindsay. You never really wanted a family.”

“I never wanted the family I had. And you’re right; I was surprised when Gus was born. I wasn’t expecting everything that comes with a baby. I figured he’d be Lindz’ kid and I’d just make strategic guest appearances. Maybe I’m growing up,” Brian said.

Michael laughed and said, “Not you; never you. Maybe the rest of us but you’ll always be young.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears, if you really want to feel old, date someone twelve years younger than you,” Brian said.

Brian was able to steer the conversation away from the munchers’ private life. He was kind of surprised Mel had given Ted permission for the big reveal. At least he hoped she had given him permission because there was no putting this genie back in the bottle. Michael was pressing to make plans for the weekend. Brian honestly told him it would depend on if he needed to take Gus for a night or not, but could see Babylon being an option if he didn’t. It was getting rarer that Mikey brought Dave with him, as the good doctor was prepping for his mini-me’s visit. Given Michael’s reaction when Brian put caveats on his plans for an infant he figured a summer with a ten year old would be a real eye opener for him.

+

Molly turned out to have a sneaky side. Not that Justin had been unaware of it, but she’d usually used it to get him into trouble the last time. This time she arranged a sleep over with her friend Emily who was coming with them. Emily’s dad was let in on this being a secret Mother’s Day mission. Justin picked them both up from school and they would be going straight to the ‘Color Me Mine’ store to pick out the pieces and get started. They had a four hour block scheduled and were having dinner of pizza and soda delivered.

Niles successfully avoided the event. Justin wondered if his thing was still on with Lena but didn’t want to pry. Mike and Paul came; Mike actually thought that it was a good idea since he needed a gift for his mom. Paul thought it was a good idea because he could spend more time with Tracy. Prom was looming and the no dating thing was putting a wrench in that. Daphne had been thinking Andrew, the swimmer, was going to ask but his resistance to joining the GSA was lowering his capital in her eyes. The girls were talking about all going as a group, which would make it work for Paul and Tracy but Justin seriously wanted to avoid Prom, for reasons.

Justin had already changed at his studio, into comfortable clothes and his paint covered canvas shoes, before picking the girls up after their school left out. Molly and Emily changed out of their uniforms after class and came down to the car in jeans and matching shirts carrying bags with their uniforms and Molly’s stuff for overnight. Justin steeled himself for giggles and high pitched squealing. Daphne was late since she was picking up Monica and Brittney who had gone home to change as well. Sep, Tracy, Mike and Paul were there and had stake out their tables to work at already. When they arrived Justin introduced the girls to everyone and then took them to look at the unpainted ceramics to choose from. Both Emily and Molly had saved up money but Justin said to pick what they wanted and he would make up the difference.

He picked out large rectangular trays with rounded corners for both his mom and grandmother. They were actually part of a grouping that had tea pots, sugar bowls and creamer. He figured they would use them on their dressers to hold jewelry or perfume bottles. Molly dithered over something easy to paint, like a plate or something they would use like a picture frame. Emily quickly picked out a vase.

The teenagers were just as indecisive as the girls so chaos ensued. The women working the store had the patience of saints. They had suggestions for colors, how to do patterns. Justin wanted pink and gold for his grandmother and blue and silver for his mom. He went about getting a workstation set up for him and the girls. Monica and Daphne joined their table and Brittney joined the boys, Tracy and Sep.

In the course of the evening Justin learned much about his sister and little girls in general. She was fickled, quickly dropping Ricky Martin like yesterday’s fashion and was ridiculously taken with Paul. After a quick quiet conference with Emily of course, because you could not be besties and like the same boy. After the brief huddle they came to some accord and Emily seemed to get Mike in the negotiations. Not that either Paul or Mike were aware of this. Molly was the bossy one in their duo making decisions and solving disagreements but was quick to share credit, bragging that Emily was the one that came up with how to get the gifts made without either of their moms finding out about it. Justin had a brief and terrifying vision of a new September and Tracy.

Dinner was delivered from Pizza Hut after six and he had the girls back to Emily’s by nine. Molly and Emily had a great time and were far more sympathetic to Daphne’s boy troubles than either Justin or Monica, but then they hadn’t met Andrew. Justin just told Daphne she could do better than Andrew and reminded her she was starting John’s Hopkins in the fall. They had to wait for their items to be fired so would pick them up next week and he gave Emily’s dad the receipts for both girls so he could pick them up.

As he drove home he marveled that he and Molly seemed closer this time. Mostly because he wasn’t a moody teen who thought the world revolved around him and probably also because she wasn’t blaming him for their parents splitting up. He eventually had been convinced last time, by both Brian and his mom that the marriage had dissolved for a number of reasons and if it had been strong and healthy his coming out would not have derailed it the way it did. But at Molly’s age all she had realized was everything had changed. It was normal for her to blame him, and she’d gotten over it and they had become close when she was in college, but it was nice they seemed to be avoiding her sullen estranged period.

+

Brian, knowing that Justin had plans, was over at the munchers babysitting while they were at a therapy appointment. He had a weird feeling they were scheduling it on Thursdays because Kal was usually not around and they didn’t want him to know they were in counseling. If that was how they felt maybe they shouldn’t have let Ted know they were having problems. Ironically since they had both met Todd, they decided to go with Lorraine as their shrink. As a family therapist she was probably more qualified at couples’ therapy than de-fagging teenagers.

Gus had a new game that Brian didn’t think the girls would approve of. It involved holding Daddy’s fingers and pulling up to a standing position. Since Brian wasn’t involved as closely the last time Gus was this age he didn’t know if this was too soon or if it could hurt Gus, but every time he tried to get Gus to sit and play with something else he’d shriek until they did the standing thing again. He was pretty sure Gus hadn’t stood until after Pride last time. Of all the useless information Lindsay spewed before she left none of it was ‘don’t let him try to stand’ so they were playing this game over and over. Gus had a big drooling grin that made Brian think it was worth any hell he’d catch and wonder if there would be teeth soon.

They were in one of the sitting periods while Gus rested his arms when the girls came in the front door. They weren’t fighting but that didn’t mean anything. After Brian got up off the floor, as Lindsay was thanking him and asking if he could watch Gus next Thursday, Gus started shriek again. Lindsay picked him up but he got mad and reached not for Mel or Brian but the floor.

Brian was tempted to keep his mouth shut and let them figure it out but Lindsay was looking at him like he broke her baby so he said, “he wants down.”

“But he was upset,” Lindsay said. Gus was still shrieking and tears were starting.

Brian said, “Seems to be still upset. Put him down, I’ll show you what he wants.”

Mel looked skeptical but Lindsay looked irritated and sat him back on his blanket. Brian stood behind him and bent over, holding his index fingers on either side. Gus grabbed on and Brian pulled him up to the standing position. Gus bounced, bending his knees and started laughing. They did this for about a minute and Gus sat back down.

“He’s going to want to do that again in about two minutes,” Brian said.

Lindsay said, “He’s not supposed to stand for months.”

“I don’t think it is standing, it’s more grabbing and he’s been doing that a while now,” Brian said. “And he won’t be able to just stand. He’s going to have to develop muscles and balance. So this is like pre-standing. He’s just getting a feel for it. And I think he’s getting a tooth.”

Instantly, Lindsay was down on her knees and examining Gus’ mouth. Gus wasn’t too happy about her fingers in his mouth and actually tried to push her hand away as Mel asked, “did you see it?”

“No, but all that drool; it’s more than it has been. I think he’s starting to cut one,” Brian said. “You may want to watch his temperature, I think I remember,” and the pause was barely noticeable because he couldn’t say he remembered from Jenny, “reading something about how they can spike fevers before it breaks through the gum.”

+

Brian really could be the most annoying man. Mel carefully didn’t smirk as Lindsay was plunging her finger into Gus’ mouth. If Brian was right she wouldn’t be able to get away with that much longer without getting bit. Lindsay had all but been smothering Gus with attention trying to make up for being away over a week. Gus pretty much indulged the crazy woman who fed him to a degree but seemed to be showing signs of having limits.

Much like his father, Gus sort of let most stuff roll off until finally pushed too far, he exploded. In Brian it came out in a blunt forced trauma of words that battered the target much more effectively than any blows. If he hadn’t gone into advertising Brian Kinney would have been the kind of litigator that made defense attorneys pee their pants. In Gus it was inconsolable crying until he wore himself out and fell asleep.

Sunday when he’d picked Gus up Brian had carefully got Gus out of the blast radius and launched into Lindsay. Bluntly telling her she wanted a kid, she had a kid and going forward she better put Gus first regardless of her need to find herself or whatever had prompted her to pull a runner. And in truth Mel kind of appreciated that Brian wasn’t pressuring them to get back together or to split. Figure it out was his order. And while she wanted to bristle and spit it was none of his fucking business what they did, she had to admit, with the kids involved it was. If anything he acted as a voice for the kids, Gus and the little one they really didn’t know yet. The message he kept hammering home was that regardless of who was claiming to be right or wronged in this situation they were in this together; and that for the rest of the kids’ lives they were their parents.

Lindsay was too busy being surprised that Wendy didn’t have Peter as thoroughly controlled as she thought to argue. In a way Mel couldn’t wait until she figured out Brian was including Justin in that group parenting he seemed to have envisioned for the future. It was when she had thought that that it really had hit her that regardless of if she and Linz worked this out they would always be connected. If they split, they couldn’t just walk away from each other, the kids would always keep them connected. She would have to have contact with, and most likely socialize with Lindsay and any new woman, or apparently man, in her life. She wasn’t ready to watch Lindsay form a new relationship no matter how angry and hurt she was.

That thought was what had prompted her to agree to counseling. Mel frankly had doubts that it would help because one, Lindsay was still trying to justify running away to play at being an art agent and two, deep down despite all the talk of them having a child together, Lindsay still gave off the ‘Gus is mine’ vibe. Mel really didn’t want the ‘yours’ and ‘mine’ aspect to impact Gus so when she met with Lorraine privately that was on her list of things she wanted to accomplish. And since due to the kids if they didn’t find a way to stay together they would have to learn to not only get along but endure the presence of any future lovers the other had; they may as well give reconciliation their best effort.

Each of them was meeting with Lorraine privately this week and then they would come as a couple again next Thursday. Their homework for their private sessions was to think of and to write out three things they wanted to accomplish in there therapy and three things that had made them fall in love. Apparently this was needed so that at their next couple session they could hammer out what each of them thought constituted a relationship, what trust meant and what besides love was needed to make any relationship between them work.

They said goodnight and Brian left; not before he said he was trying to give them space but really wished they would let him know if his kids were going to grow up in separate households. He hoped he wasn’t expected to get that kind of update from Ted. Mel made a face and Lindsay’s lips thinned out. That had been a miscalculation. She thought telling Ted some stuff would make it less interesting. People always assumed something salacious if you hid it so she said it was okay to let people know they were having trouble but not to mention Lindsay’s affair. Lindsay, being the more approachable of the two of them had been inundated with calls, all offing an ear or asking if they could do anything but really trying to get details from her regarding the rift. Needless to say Lindsay wasn’t volunteering any details, especially since the truth wouldn’t present her in a favorable light.

+

Friday night at Babylon; it had been a while since they’d found time to go out. Justin heard whispers from some gossipy queens near the back bar as he was getting bottles of water for them both. He really would like to know what had sparked the latest round of speculations regarding him and Brian. Being with Brian had always conferred a near celebrity status among the throngs of club boys but even being used to that Justin found it irritating. It wasn’t like they’d been out and about with Brian’s dad dying and the trouble with the munchers. Together, they spent some time up on the catwalk. At least that gave the illusion of being above it all and Justin was trying not to let his pissy mood ruin the night for Brian. They ended up not in the backroom, but making out like teenagers against the wall at the end of the catwalk. They were just kissing and rubbing against each other so apparently Michael took that as an invitation to come over and start a conversation. Justin shot Michael a look which he seemed oblivious to and Justin held out hope that if he and Dave stayed together Michael might pick up some fucking manners by osmosis. Dave had stayed in, or at least told Michael he wasn’t up for clubbing. Justin wondered if Michael and he had hammered out how to balance Michael’s desire to hit the clubs with his friends solo. Did Dave assume he was tricking? Would Dave hit the baths while Michael was at Babylon?

The three of them went down to the dance floor and ran into Ted and Kevin. Kevin kind of reminded Justin of a game show host; he was perfectly polite and charming, just not quite believable. HD and Emmett didn’t show until almost midnight. One of the organizers of the drag competition had waylaid Emmett on their way in regarding performing on a float for Pride. Whether he would or not was the talk of their after-bar conversation at the diner, with Debbie weighing in that Vic would be happy to take Godiva with he and Hunter. Privately Justin wondered if Debbie needed to consult them about attending because Vic may have plans and Hunter may not feel the need to attend events at which he might meet former clients.

It was almost three when they got back to the loft. Thank God for the art of napping. It had been quite a while since they had such a late night. And it was almost four before they went to sleep so it was a wonder that Justin woke when his phone vibrated with a text at eight thirty the next morning. Cursing September, because Daphne just wouldn’t, not early on a Saturday, Justin checked the text message. It was from his mom’s phone but it was signed Molly and just said, ‘please come now’.

Justin rolled over with the phone, rubbed his face, checked the time and manfully didn’t groan in consideration of his still sleeping lover. He got up, dug through the drawers and pulled on a jock and a tee shirt and shifted around and picked up his jeans off the floor. Brian rolled over and squinted up at him and said, “’S’up?”

“I don’t know. Molly wants me. I’m going over there,” Justin said.

Brian rolled out of bed grabbing his own jeans and said, “Not by yourself.”

Uncaffeinated, Justin didn’t feel up to arguing with him. They stumbled down to the jeep and headed to Justin’s parents’ place. He hadn’t texted back because he didn’t know if his mom knew Molly had used her phone. So he was surprised when Brian pulled to a stop in front of his parents’ house and Molly came running down the walk.

“God, Mollusk, there better be coffee,” Justin said, stepping down from the Jeep.

Molly wailed, “He’s ruining everything.”

“Who’s doing what?” Justin said, hugging her as she threw herself on him and cried.

Brian said, “Morning Jennifer, Craig.”

Justin looked up to see his parents in the doorway. His mother looked confused and his father angry.

Justin said, “We haven’t had coffee or a shower, can you tell us what’s going on in small words?”

“I don’t really know,” his mother said, “But come inside there’s coffee, and I’ll make more.”

“He needs to answer some questions,” his dad said, “I know Molly snuck out to see you on Thursday night.”

Brian followed Justin and Molly up the walk and into the house. Brian shocked his mom first by the amount of sugar he dumped in his coffee and then pointedly saying, “Jennifer, why don’t you take me out and show me your plans for the garden this summer.”

It only took fifteen years but Brian was now capable of embracing the WASP subculture when needed. So Brian and his mom went out onto the deck, and closed the door, taking his coffee with him. Justin wasn’t sure what Brian intended to tell his mom but he had damage control to perform. Brian was more than capable of distracting her for a while. Justin refilled his cup from the currently filling carafe before putting it back on the machine. After gulping half of his second mug he said, “Okay, Moll, what’s Dad done now.”

“We worked so hard and he’s ruined it. He’s ruins everything,” Molly said. “He told Mom.”

Justin, not giving his dad time to fire out whatever his questions were, asked, “Seriously Dad, did you ruin Mother’s Day?”

“Mother’s Day?” Craig said.

“Yeah,” Justin said, “The holiday that’s next weekend, where we give presents to Mom and Grandmother. I don’t know what you’re planning to give Mom but Molly and I went out Thursday afternoon to make her presents. Emily’s dad is picking Molly’s up later this week.”

“Why is Emily’s dad picking them up?” Craig asked.

Justin said, “Because Emily was with us and made something for her mom as well.”

“But you ruined it,” Molly said, wailing and angrily stopping her foot.

Justin snorted into the mug and said, “well you get your drama queen tendencies honestly Mollusk, I hope you included that in your genetics project. In the future, maybe you could just have Dad call me, quietly to back your story, instead of me thinking you were lying dead in a pool of blood.”

“You did not,” she said but it refocused her anger.

Justin said, “I’m here before nine on a Saturday morning, we both inherited our tendency to queen out from Dad.”

His dad didn’t look happy about the term ‘queen out’ so Justin made a new cup of oversweet coffee and ask Molly to take it to Brian. Molly was far enough long into the indoctrination into the WASP subculture to translate that request to realized Justin was asking to speak with their father alone. Possibly because she was hoping Justin was planning to yell at their dad; she agreed to leave.

Once she left, closing the sliding door just off the kitchen to the deck outside, Justin said, “Really Dad? I guess it won’t mean much coming from me but you honestly don’t have to worry that I’m going to molest my sister. Or you, if that’s a concern.”

“That’s not what I thought,” he said, looking shocked.

Justin leveled a bland looked at him, granted this Craig Taylor hadn’t rear-ended Brian or attacked him outside of Babylon or had Justin arrested but he had just made Molly hysterical. Justin said, “She was never alone with me. I picked her and Em up after school, took them to ‘Color Me Mine’ we were with Daphne and some of my friends from school, who also have moms they wanted to make stuff for. I dropped her and Em off with Emily’s parents around nine.

“I just don’t want her lying and sneaking around,” he said. “That’s how this all started with you.”

“No. Dad, seriously, I was gay at my whole life. How this all started, if what you mean is me not telling you I was gay is that I knew you wouldn’t want me gay, so I presented you with the straight son you wanted. It’s not lying if they make you lie. You projected that if I was gay, you didn’t want me as your son and I wouldn’t a member of the family. And being like ten and not having anywhere else to be I faked it as well as I could. Not very well obviously since I been called faggot at school since around that time. If you’re talking about last summer, I told Mom where I was and who I was with the whole time I lived here,” Justin said. “For as long as I was living in this house I wasn’t lying about where I was or what I was doing, I actually did my best to be the son you could live with. But I can’t not be gay, I never could.”

“And, given who my friends are, I can tell you a thing or two about girls; especially teenaged ones. You are in for a bumpy ride. This little dramafest is just the beginning. You have not yet seen Molly try to be sneaky. She was hiding this from Mom, not you, if she puts her mind to it, the next eight to ten years could be hell. Don’t make her think you don’t trust her, don’t make her think that if she doesn’t toe some imaginary line you don’t love her or she’s not part of the family – it won’t solve anything and it will make your job much, much harder,” Justin sighed.

Craig seemed to listen and then said, “I think I know more about raising a daughter than you.”

“Neither of us have done it before but you were a jock, I’m a fag – I’ve seen the girls like you used to date not on their best behavior to impress the boys,” Justin said. “Did Frank Payne mention that he had a homeless teenaged prostitute living in his pool house for weeks?”

“What?” Craig looked incredulous.

Justin shrugged, “Girls. Girls think it’s easier to get forgiveness than permission and teenaged girls are diabolical. He keeps Tracy on a very short leash, watches her every move. She shows him exactly what he wants to see and then does what she wants to do anyway. Don’t be Molly jailer, be her dad. Let her know if she comes to you with something you don’t want to hear – tossing her out is not an option.”

“I would never toss her out,” Craig said.

“Words are cheap, Dad,” Justin said. “She learns by watching, that’s how she learned to talk, walk, eat. She’s still a kid and they watch everything and if your words and actions don’t match she goes by your actions. Molly was in the living room, behind the couch the night you tossed me out. The first time I saw her a few days after that she was worried. She asked me where she would live if she had to leave too.”

“Jesus Christ,” Craig said.

+

Jennifer knew when she was being managed. But Molly had been in hysterics and she wasn’t even sure how she’d gotten in touch with Justin to send for him. And really, he was hardly who she should call to calm her father down. Once Justin arrived however Molly calmed down considerably. It was obvious he and Brian had rolled out of bed and come at her prompting. Craig had been livid that Molly had not been at Emily’s house, well not the whole time. Really she didn’t see how Justin taking the girls somewhere was any different than Emily’s parents taking them somewhere. Unless it was a movie that was too old for them; surely he didn’t take them to something PG 13 or scary.

She’d made some vague comments about landscaping plans, but she could tell Brian was more interested in his coffee than her garden. He was leaning his forearms on the railing surrounding the deck and communing with his coffee. He looked younger than she’d ever seen before, maybe it was that he wasn’t in a suit or maybe his hair was not gelled. He looked college age, maybe a little older than the boys Justin would be going to school with in the fall. She knew he was older than that, had seen him with his son and with hers. She asked, “What’s really going on?”

“It’s May,” he said and dipping his head and looking over at her; he had a gleam of mischief in his eye when he added, “The traditional time to not tell your mom stuff. Wait eight days all will be revealed, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

“Oh, of all the -- really?” She said. Jennifer couldn’t believe this was all some sort of misunderstanding over the kids planning something for Mother’s Day. They had always worked together, Craig was useless at remembering it and since Justin had almost ten years on Molly they had started when she was toddling conspiring together to surprise her.

“Act surprised,” he said and looked sad that he’d finished the last of his coffee. The door opened and Molly carefully carrying a cup of coffee turned to slide it shut behind her. She carried it over and offered it to Brian. He said, “You are a goddess; the goddess of caffeine.”

She giggled and asked, “Why do you drink it if you don’t like the taste?”

“What makes you think I don’t like the taste?” Brian asked after sipping from the cup.

Molly said, “Because you put so much sugar in it.”

“I like the taste. I just like it better with sugar,” Brian said.

Molly said, “We have to stay out here, I think Justin is yelling at dad.”

“Yeah, he yells at me too, especially if I get him out of bed before nine on a Saturday,” Brian said.

Molly said, “Justin says we get our drama queen tendencies from Dad.”

“He’s probably right, your mom seems pretty unflappable,” Brian said and toasted Jennifer with his coffee mug.

Jennifer was too busy hiding a smile. Craig would not appreciate the comparison to a drama queen; he was prone to overreact, this morning was a perfect example, but tended to try and justify his reaction rather than admit it was wrong. This might need to be addressed at their next session with Lorraine.

Brian and Molly chatted he asked how her genetics project went and if she was thinking of going to that STEM camp that Daphne had gone to in the summer. Jennifer was impressed. Sure he was smooth and remembering details like that was part of not only being charming but manipulating people. His business was public manipulation so to be as successful as Justin claimed he was he would have to have a good memory for details. She’d taken Justin’s claims about him with a grain of salt. Not that she thought Justin was lying but she figured the eyes of love often missed shortcomings. But it still took effort and attention for him to remember what he and Molly had worked on after he had dinner here and to remember Justin mentioning Daphne’s camp in passing.

Craig and Justin joined them out on the deck. Craig made no reference to… what was it she had heard Justin call it to Daphne? A queen-out? Regardless, it was as if they just all happened to be here on the deck for no reason so she said, “Is anyone hungry? I feel like making a frittata,” Jennifer said.

Justin perked up, he used to love sitting at the kitchen counter and watching her use up all the leftovers to make up a meal. But she watched him look to Brian and Brian shrugged before Justin said, “sounds good.”

+

They weren’t hitting any estate sales today. It was after nine when HD got up and Emmett listened to him singing in the shower. This morning it was an old Johnny Cash song, ‘One Piece at a Time’. He had an almost encyclopedic memory for lyrics and melodies. When Marc had stayed with them the two of them had played a version of ‘Green Grass and High Tides’ with duel lead guitars that lasted nearly twenty minutes.

They were going to have to watch that once people were moving into the building. Shelley was the only one so far besides Wade, because she said she didn’t mind the noise and the only time HD and Wade could work on the building since taking the job from Brian was after hours. Wade had stopped working security at Babylon now that HD was providing full time and looking to be long term employment. Which worked out well for him since Babylon didn’t offer the benefits HD did. And Wade needed medical.

Emmett had been shocked to hear he was positive. He just seemed so healthy. Emmett thought that explained why HD was so good about staying close to Godiva but Wade had explained to Emmett one night he and Shelley had come to dinner that he and HD had never been that close. They’d been from rival school and Wade hadn’t been real accepting when he realized HD was gay back then. Eventually he’d outgrown such foolishness but he just knew HD and Jake in passing, from the days both he and HD had played hockey.

Wade said HD hadn’t even known his status, that he had told him when HD offered him full time with benefits. Wade had been surprised the offer still stood when he’d told him his status. Of course HD being HD had said, ‘how the hell did that happen, aren’t you straight’. Wade it turned out was ‘kind of straight’, more bi, leaning strongly to females and had been engaged to be married, had a good job on the Cleveland police force. But a needle stick in a routine pat down on a snatch and grab had infected him. It had lost him his job and his girl. And for a while he thought his anger and bitterness was going to kill him before the virus.

He’d joined a support group in Cleveland and got his head together and finally moved home because the job and the girl had been the only things keeping him there. He was looking for a new support group. Frankly the one at the GLC was making him antsy they were a little too militantly homosexual in his point of view. Wade, much like HD, didn’t like people defining him by his sexuality. He may think of himself as just a guy but he liked to think he was more than just who he slept with.

The units in the building would probably be too pricey for him, even given how well HD paid his crew. HD was torn between selling the units and renting them out, depend on the housing market when they were finished. Shelley was renting currently but said she might be interested in buying if they went that way, now that she had a job with Kinnetik. Emmett figured Wade would need to save his money and even with insurance the cost of the drug regime was astronomical, Emmett knew that much from Godiva. But HD was including part of the rent as payment for the extra work he was doing helping him finish the remaining lofts in the building. Emmett suggested he look for a roommate. Emmett had never lived alone and had had a roommate or once two since he moved to Pittsburgh.

“What’re you thinking about so serious like?” HD asked kneeling on the bed and leaning over for a kiss.

Emmett smiled and said, “I love Saturdays now that I’m not working retail.”

“Don’t you have a big todo tonight?” HD said.

Emmett said, “The Abrams wedding. Six o’clock at Heinz Chapel; then over to the University Club for a sit down dinner.”

He didn’t have to be on site until four. So he could be forgiven if he pulled HD back to bed. As they lay talking afterward HD suggested they pick up some pastries and visit Godiva, so Emmett could talk over the offer to perform and get his input.

“Are you sure, with how booked I’ve been and Brian keeping you so busy I thought you might want to do something?” Emmett asked.

“I did,” HD said, “we just did what I planned. We can do it again after we eat, but we can eat with Godiva and see what he thinks you should perform, and talk dresses and wigs and whatnot.”

Emmett smiled and said, “Whatnot?”

“That’s the stuff that goes under the dresses,” HD said earnestly.

Emmett chucked and said, “Oh is it?”

“I vote whatever you wear should show your legs. I really like your legs,” HD said.

Emmett said, “So, how do chocolate croissants and French roast sound?”

“I want hot chocolate,” HD said.

So twenty minutes later they stopped in Liberty House. Godiva was happy to see them but Emmett notice he barely sipped his coffee and pretty much just pulled his croissant apart. Godiva was insistent that whatever dress they chose should be red and said red should be Emmett’s signature color. HD didn’t really get to vote on color but suggested it have the whatnot that made dresses froth out around the knees. Godiva was confused by the terminology but Emmett laughed and said, “Crinolines?”

“I’ll be a bit warm in June for petticoats and full length dresses,” Godiva said.

“No you can wear them at knee height, June Carter used to wear them. I remember her on TV, in a red knee length dress with those things making it fluff out. Miss June had some spicy gams,” HD said.

Emmett said, “Did she now?”

“What can I say, I’m a leg man,” HD said.

Godiva had them take some measurements and made a list of materials to get for him. Emmett wondered how they had gotten from ‘should I or shouldn’t I’ to this is what your wearing. He said, “Shouldn’t I have an idea what I’m doing before picking out the dress.”

“The dress chose the material last time,” HD said, “If you do ‘Jackson’ I’ll sing Johnny’s part.”

“You would? Oh that would be fun! But who’ll be with Godiva?” Emmett asked.

Godiva said, “Don’t you worry ‘bout me,”

At the same time HD said, “We will; come up on the float with us. This is a team effort. We’ll get you an instrument; if you can’t play we’ll pipe in prerecorded music.”

Godiva started laughing so hard he then started coughing and had to lie back for a spell. Emmett shot a worried look at HD but he just shook his head.

 

 


	70. I could show you my favorite obsession.

Wednesday night’s rarely had any events. Sure there were exceptions to the rule but not tonight, tonight Emmett was having a little dinner party. What was the use of having a dining room table this big if he didn’t cook for his friends? He was hosting the gang and their current steadies, and how rare was it for them all to be seeing the kind of guys you could ask to dine at the same time? Never, in Emmett’s recollection, that’s how often. Ted and Kevin; Michael and David; Brian and Justin, he still had room for more but decided to keep it just the eight of them. And after dinner they had a poker game planned. He really wasn’t much for cards himself but Brian and Dave had answered with an enthusiastic ‘Hell, yeah’ when Huxley suggested Texas Hold Em.

If nothing else he could sit out and talk with anyone not interested although he’d noticed Justin and Brian had quite a competitive streak between them and often egged each other on. It was very different than how Michael tended to defer to Brian, Justin challenged him, got in his face and pushed. Of course with the two of them it usually ended up in them taking off for a bathroom or dark corner. Maybe when he gave them the nickel tour he’d point out that the laundry room was tucked out of sight behind the kitchen and that the door locked – just in case. Should he put lube back there? Not like Brian Kinney wasn’t always prepared for sex at the drop of a hat, but one liked to make sure ones guest had all they needed.

Emmett knew he was probably driving HD crazy with his all his little preparations. But when he’d suggested having everyone over the big man had just smiled and said, ‘you get to use your dishes for something other than decorations. True, getting to show off the dining suite and his china and silver were a selling point of a diner party, it had been nice to sit around the table at the restaurant after Brian’s dad’s viewings. Not exactly better than a night at Woody’s; just different, a nice change of pace, tonight made him feel grown up, like Aunt Lula and Gran hosting Sunday super.

He and Huxley had attended an estate sale at an old convent and scooped up dinner service for thirty six along with attending items like gravy boats, creamers, salt and pepper shakers and platters and serving bowls at a song, six hundred dollars. It was real china! Plates, cups, bowls all of the most delicate bone, sure it was plain ivory with just the finest rim of gold edging it. All much better quality than what was at Macy’s and for that price he’d have been lucky to get a couple place settings retail. Even Mister Label Queen Kinney himself wasn’t too proud to jump on some of Emmett’s estate sale finds. But Emmett had never thought he’d own anything so fine. The nuns had taken ever so good care of it. He was surprised it wasn’t being shipped to wherever the diocese was sending the nuns when they sold the building. He’d had them out on display on the big china cabinet they had picket up with the dining room set but after Brian had taken them all to dinner wanted to return the favor.

His silver was all mismatched but it was real silver. HD had a brutally tarnished bin of silver everything. He used to melt it down back when he still worked metal as a hobby and never got out of the habit of picking it out when going through sales, junk shops or trash. His man had a serious dumpster diving habit. Since Jake had passed, HD was in the habit of avoiding spending too much time in either their shared home or his small forge out in back of it. He had quite a pile of scrap metal in the three years since Jake passed. They had sorted through the bins, unbent and once the serviceable pieces had been polished up Emmett had full service for ten, with all kinds of odds and ends, including marrow spoons. In following his magpie of a boyfriend though his kind of ‘shopping’ Emmett had acquired mismatched linen napkins he’d bleached and then dyed; and used his own talent with a bedazzler to make some sparkling pieces of art from Pier One wooden napkin rings.

The real reason to have a dinner, aside from finally having a place he could entertain, was they now had a chandelier. It had been a mess. Even the nuns had it stored in the basement – on the floor! They had been down looking at the industrial washer and dryer to see if they should put a small laundry in off the lobby of their building when HD had wandered over to what looked like a pile of trash. It was a gaudy, dirty, cracked monstrosity; all ceramic and rusted metal hung with cracked crystals and tangled ropes of glass beads. It must have once been white and gold but now had the burnished brass dented and was discolored with grime imbedded in the textured ceramic bases of the lights. The insulation around the wiring was rotten and HD said they never wired them right anyway and most were just fire hazards. The man at the estate sale gave it to them for free, saying it wasn’t even worth money as salvage. HD said he had an idea and Emmett was sure he was crazy. He said, ‘let me try, if you don’t like it once it’s hung, we’ll get rid of it’. So he’d taken it apart, rewired it and glued and soldiered after it had been dipped in some highly toxic cleaning bath, the thing had looked even worse. And then HD had taken it to his friend’s body shop and had the whole thing painted black. Hung and with the lights in it was an oddly masculine but highly ornate chandelier. It suited their loft perfectly and for someone who couldn’t see color, HD had the eyes of an artist.

Black table cloth, china plates, a mirrored top on their lazy-susan dressed up their heavy oak table and would be a theatric backdrop to dinner. They would start with a smoked salmon, leek and potato soup, followed by baked stuffed onions with sausage and Swiss chard; and then a roasted cauliflower salad, with feta, walnuts and blood oranges; and for the main course, Huxley’s mama’s city chicken recipe, chunky cubes of veal on six inch wooden skewers, browned in a frying pan and then baked in a pan with condensed cream of onion soup and spices. But, Emmett had cheated on dessert and had Vic make them a cheese cake. Even if he had time, Emmett could never have created a masterpiece like this, it had Oreo cookie crumbs and ground coffee beans for the crust and was made using ten egg yolks, almost a pound of chèvre and was flavored with Bailey’s Irish cream with an espresso mousse on top. He was thinking of putting it out as the center piece on a cake plate in the middle of the lazy-susan it looked so good.

When he’d asked Huxley if five courses was too pretentious, after all wanting to use both his soup bowls and salad plates had impacted the menu, Huxley had snorted and said, “Honey, I am never going to say you’ve made too much food.”

The plates and silver sparkled, the table was set with the service for the planned menu, he printed little menu cards, set out some canapes, little meatballs, an avocado dip with crisp tortilla pieces for dipping, and thin skewers of alternating olives and cheese cubes on the guests’ side of the kitchen island. He’d gone to the big liquor store down on Smithfield with the huge wine selection with Justin on Monday afternoon and it had been real educational. If he was going to be recommending wines to clients he’d better learn about them. HD had suggested a class in wines and even offered to take it with him. It was something to think about. When he’d mentioned it to Teddy he’d said he could write a class like that off as a business expense. But he’d stocked up on some nice whites and reds, all very economical, but Justin said price wasn’t how you bought wine. Right now he had both reds and whites open and breathing and watched as Huxley carefully filled the water goblets with ice and water. Everything was going like clockwork, provided none of the guests were horribly late, that was a concern. Not Teddy of course, Teddy could be relied on to be punctual but you never knew with Brian and Michael.

Surprisingly Brian and Justin were the first to arrive. Justin offered him a large bouquet of pink and orange lilies and said, “Thank you so much for inviting us,” as Brian rolled his eyes.

“Thank you for coming,” Emmett gushed to Justin and then added to Brian, “on time.”

Brian looked surprised and said, “Six, right?”

“Six thirty,” Emmett said and turned a confused look on Huxley.

Who said, “Six is six thirty in Brian time.”

Justin seemed to enjoy that as Brian said, “don’t you work for me?”

“You could fire me, I could use some time off,” HD answered with a grin.

Emmett showed them around. Not actually specifying that the laundry room was a tidy spot they could get some privacy if something came up but Brian appeared to get the message if his smirk was anything to go by. Justin loved the chandelier and stayed near the kitchen island, entertaining Emmett as he worked with a tale about one he saw in Dallas, while he munched on some of the appetizers.

+

Brian followed HD to where his drafting table was. It was behind the master bed and bath in a long corridor like room lined with storage apparently filled with junk. Brian guessed if you were one of those people who collected crap, like Mikey, at least having your own space to keep, what basically looked like so much scrap out of sight was the best way to do it. After making sure Emmett was sufficiently distracted by Justin, Brian asked, “Do you have your eye on another place now that this is almost finished?”

“Not all of us are looking to take over the world, Brian. I figure I’ll build capital until the bubble bursts, in what 2004 or 2005 then snap up foreclosures before all the rumors start on the hospital.” HD said, “Trouble is now Em’s business is doing well he can’t get away, otherwise I could get him to Paris like he wants once you’re in your place.”

“Summer’s too hot, go in the fall,” Brian said.

HD growled, “Excellent idea, maybe we could get a flight on September eleventh, ya think?”

“Fuck,” Brian said.

HD said, “Tell me about it. And after that traveling became a nightmare.”

“Thought you were a simple man, not a world traveler,” Brian said.

HD said, “We still went to Nashville, you ass.”

“Why in the hell would anyone go to Nashville?” Brian said.

HD said, “The Grand Ol’ Opry, you uncultured boor.”

“Huxley, that’s no way to talk to a guest,” Emmett said, sticking his head around the corner and added, “don’t hide back here Teddy and Kevin are here.”

HD got up looking sheepish and said, “I thought Brian was family and I don’t have to be nice to him.” Which was probably why Brian got along with him; what was it he’d told Justin? Who wants to spend time with people you had to be nice to.

David and Michael soon arrived and after a bitter aperitif of Dubonnet Rouge, dry vermouth and Cointreau; of which Michael took a sip, made a face and had the grace not to hand it back to Em; they were all seated. Michael gave Brian a brief terrified look when he saw all the silverware, but once seated and everyone started talking seemed to relax. Emmett had outdone himself. The meal was classy and not at all lesbionic. He could have done without the honking, artery-blocking, calorie-laden dessert set like a sacrifice on an alter in the center of the table. But the soup was delicate and creamy, the stuffed onions were a nice change and not something you saw on every bistro menu around, the salad was fresh and had enough protein that it would make it a balanced lunch, and city chicken was an old favorite in the neighborhood and offered a local flavor, all-in-all this might be a dry run for one of Em’s pending galas.

Justin had mentioned shopping for wine with Emmett and that Em was thinking of taking a class. Brian couldn’t blame him. He’d polished some of his own edges with electives like ballroom dancing in college so he could understand with the industry Em was in, wanting to class it up a bit. The talk at the table had turned to that idea and Ted and Kevin were actually thinking about taking the class too. That would be, Brian thought, and fought to keep a sneer off his face, nice. Since Em and HD moved in together Ted and he had been seeing less of each other and they’d always been good friends even if they were never together this time. Justin met his eye over his own wine glass and Brian felt the connection. All the years, so many things that were going on out of their control, but now, for tonight everyone was here and relatively safe and happy. It was enough.

+

Justin couldn’t stop smiling. Brian had that ‘everything is good, but no way am I going to admit it’ look. Emmett was glowing and absolutely in his element. Over the years they had both attended any number of Emmett’s parties but none had been like this. Previously Em’s do-s had been at a venue, he’d never had a home large enough to host a lot of people, even his famous Oscar nights had been set up at local theaters. It was funny because it didn’t seem at all the same as when Michael would invite them over to his and Ben’s place. Michael always had seemed to project ‘look, I’ve got it right; I’m better than you’ his every move calculated to rub in that he was following the right path. Of course he wasn’t at that place with Dave, yet, and after sparing a thought to wonder if the fundraiser had occurred without them all Justin considered if back when Michael had invited them to that first dinner party, if Brian had thrown himself dramatically at Michael’s feet, rendered his garments and wailed ‘yes, yes you*are* the light and the salvation, save me, show me how to be the best homosexual ever’ if that would have satisfied Michael smug, supercilious, Stepford fag need to be superior to his so-called best friend.

But Emmett, he just exuded happiness. And it wasn’t as if he was saying ‘look, my things are better than yours’ or ‘I have a hot guy and a big place and shiny things aren’t I wonderful’. With Em it felt as if he was opening his arms, about to fold you into one of his warm hugs and say ‘let me take care of you, baby’ which was what he was doing. He was opening the warmth of his hearth with the same unfettered, joyous glee he opened his heart. He pulled them all into his warm safe den and fed them with the very best he could produce and was just so happy to have them all there, with him to share his life and love that it was like they really were a family and had come home.

Even Michael relaxed and didn’t seem to care he was using his salad fork for his main course or that he had a smear of dressing on his chin. Dave and Brian were talking summer programs and he was pretty sure Brian gave Dave his mom’s number and mentioned Molly might be going to the same camp as Hank. Ted was talking about renovating the building for his club and HD was making noises about wanting to travel in July after they finished the Kinnetik job, if Em could work it into his schedule. Em lit up and started clapping his fingertips and asked, “Paris?”

“Or the Riviera, I mean it’ll be Summer so you might want beaches instead of a hot city with dubious air conditioning,” HD said, “If you can fit it into your busy schedule?”

“Nice is pretty gay friendly,” Justin volunteered and then wondered how out of date his information was before noticing Michael and David giving him strange looks and adding, “or so I’ve heard.”

Brian hid a smirk in his wine glass and said, “Good feed, Honeycutt, so how about that poker game?”

+

Ted dealt the cards. Michael and Em were sitting out the game. Michael chatting away at the large kitchen island as Em hand washed his china. The rest of them tossed twenties in and HD passed out chips. Ted wondered if the fact the big man had an old leather case with old fashioned chips and about five decks of cards was a sign he was about to be out twenty bucks really fast. HD perpetual pissed off look, except when he was doting on Em, would be hard to read. Justin’s constant smile was probably equally hard to read. He didn’t know Dave or Kevin well enough to read them well and Brian didn’t so much have a poker face as a permanent expression that said ‘I know more than your think’. That might be why he was so damn successful.

For years Ted had thought Brian Kinney coasted through life on good looks and charm. And the idea that Brian could be charming when he was such an unapologetic rat bastard to his friends wasn’t as unbelievable as it had been. But since they’d started working together he realized something; Brian was a fucking workaholic. Not just the hours he put in but the actual productivity. It hadn’t escaped Ted’s notice that Brian worked all the time, not just at the office but at home. He’d been top performer, and boy did the old Ryder employees have stories of what he did while there, but he’d also been managing, and succeeding at running his own venture capital business after hours, right along with all the fucking he was famous for.

Brian had been honest about the hours of research venture capital required when he’d told Ted how he did it. You couldn’t just hand out money, that was no better than buying a lottery ticket and about as likely to pay back your investment. You had to practically do the job yourself, to see what was involved and if the person proposing something knew what the hell they were doing. But Ted liked investing in people. Sure he was a soft touch and a good sob story almost had him reaching for his own wallet. But the forms Brian had put together helped and when in doubt he’d sound it out to Brian, who never failed to ask questions Ted had never considered. He was reluctantly admitting Brian had more than good looks and charm; there was drive and intelligence to back it up. Something he’d never really noticed when all he did was waited for Brian to finish up the fourth or fifth trick of the night so they could head out to the diner.

And after all the years of Brian sneering at the ‘A-gays’ Ted, now that he was occasionally dinning or associating with them, was beginning to agree with him. Kevin had ambitions to take over the top tier of the Pittsburgh social set when Garth eventually retired to Palm Springs, but Ted was having second thoughts even if it did get him great seats at the Opera. For all their naked waiters and fois gras the old fossils in the A-gays didn’t dine nearly as well as they had tonight, and more than a few of them would give their next stock option for the chance to sit at a poker table with Brian Kinney. Ted had never even thought to name drop Brian. Kevin had wowed the crowd by saying he’d dined with Brian it made Ted very glad he hadn’t had Kevin accompany him to the mass and reception. If Kevin were going to be indiscrete he didn’t want him doing it with Brian’s family life.

He thought he heard Michael mentioning a card game called ‘Magic the Gathering’ to Emmett after saying he really didn’t get poker. Brian snorted but said nothing. HD flicked a micro expression at Justin who just grinned even more. Dealing moved around the table and every time it got to Dave, who had dealt first they upped the blinds. Kevin was out first and Ted knew he didn’t have a chance in hell of winning but had been hoping for his pride’s sake not to go out first. Justin and Brian, like him, had won a couple hands but HD and Dave were going head to head, not only winning most of the hands but driving the pot up. Then Brian went all in and Justin looked at him and said, “Bullshit.”

Brian smiled and Ted folded. HD looked at Justin and then looked at Brian and then said, “I’m out.”

Dave looked at the pot, then what HD had in front of him and said, “me too.”

That was how Justin went out, and then went to help Em with the dishes. Ted was wondering if he did it intentionally or if Brian knew a way to manipulate him. Well, of course, he knew how to manipulate him but one specifically geared to poker. Ted was surprised that Brian was the next to go out, until he noticed him and Justin slipping off out of sight. He went out to a hand Dave won and then the game got serious.

It took three more hands before Dave went all in and lost to HD. They shook hands and Dave not only said, good game, but mentioned he played once a month with some doctor friends and they were always looking for fresh blood.

The cards were cleared and Em served up coffee and finally cut the cheese cake that none of them had room for after the first four courses. Plated cake and cups with saucers were set out for Brian and Justin, being absent Brian couldn’t decline the plate of decadence. Michael made a crack about Brian and Justin being in the bathroom for a long time.

“Oh, no,” Emmett said, “That’s the laundry.” And then he clapped and jumped up and said, “I didn’t get to show you the chandelier we put in the powder room, come see.”

As he dragged Michael off toward the entrance, where this powder room was Dave said, “Another chandelier?”

“Emmett can have as many damned chandeliers as he wants,” HD said. “As long as he hangs them high enough not to clock me in the head, I’ve had enough brain injuries to last me a life time.”

“Amen,” Justin said as he came around the corner from behind the kitchen, with Brian draped over his back like a cape. “This one is a really work of art, HD. You could make a fortune making these.”

“I didn’t make it, it was made years ago when shit was made to last of stuff other than PVC and MDF all I did was rewire it and paint it,” HD growled.

Justin grinned. He took a seat and pulled Brian down into the one next to him. As Brian was looking at the cheesecake as if it were radioactive, Justin said, “Well it’s beautiful, I can see why Em is so proud of you.”

Ted watched as Emmett’s boyfriend blushed. The guy was huge and he remembered the day he first met him thinking he was about to see this man dismember Debbie but he really was, well not as Em described him ‘a big ol’ pussy cat’ but just a shy kid who happened to look scarier than a loan shark’s enforcer.

Michael came back with Emmett raving about the chandelier in the powder room. As the last to arrive he and Dave hadn’t got the tour Emmett had given Kevin. After the cheesecake and coffee, they had another game with all eight of them playing. Both HD and Dave were much less competitive, each taking time to teach their boyfriends the basics. So of course it ended up head to head with Brian and Justin the last in. Ted had never seen a poker game as foreplay. Especially given it was obvious they’d slipped off for some form of sex between dinner and dessert. But between the intense way they were watching each other and the smoldering way they purred out their bets, he thoroughly expected the winner to fuck the looser on Emmett’s dining room table.

“It’s like poker porn,” Ted said. And then realized he’d said it aloud when Emmett’s high pitched titter was underscored with HD deep chuckle.

He saw Kevin nod in agreement from the corner of his eye and then heard him say, “I feel like we should be filming this.”

Justin went all in, Brian smirked and Ted wondered if Justin had just intentionally thrown the game so he could get fucked when they lay down the cards. Then he looked again. Sure Brian had four of a kind, but Justin had a straight flush. Justin’s smile lit up the room and Brian was smiling as well; as if he still thought he won.

“Brian,” Ted said, “you lost.”

“Did I really, Theodore,” Brian drawled, not breaking eye contact with Justin who just kept grinning. Ted flashed back to Michael’s outraged squawk about how Brian had let Justin top. He became uncomfortably aware that that was what Brian had just meant.

Emmett broke the tension by offering digestives, which in this case was a smoky amber liquor that came from a clear glass bottle with ‘1792’ etched on it. It turned out to be bourbon. Ted figured it had to do with the fiddly little after dinner glasses he brought out on a silver tray with it to serve it in as Em was strictly a Cosmo man, but then the smile he gave his honey when he poured for him made him think this might be a reward for the girly aperitif and the wine instead of beer with dinner.

Shortly after the drinks they made their goodbyes. Ted hoped Kevin talked this dinner party up the way he did their dinner at the Fish Market because if any of those ‘A-gays’ wanted to keep their entertaining laurels they would be hiring Em to plan their dinner parties. In fact as they rode down on the elevator with the others Ted said, “No wonder his business is booming. To think we could have been having him feed us for years like that.”

“None of us could get though the fucking door if we ate like that regularly,” Brian said.

Justin chirped in, “I could, I have a really high metabolism.”

“I don’t know, I think you need to work it off, before it all settles in your ass,” Brian said pressing him against the wall of the elevator.

“Hello,” Michael said, “you’re not alone. We don’t want to see this.”

Ted wondered if anyone else heard Kevin murmur, “Speak for yourself.” As the door opened and spilled them out into the lobby of the building. It really was a gorgeous place and he would have to crunch the numbers. His condo was two bedrooms but around the same size as some of them, and the one they’d had Justin’s birthday party in was even bigger. Maybe he’d talk to Emmett see if the big one was spoken for. He could always rent out his condo for at least the cost of the mortgage. Maybe Brian had it right, fuck them all, instead of aspiring to move into the affluent areas of town just make your mark and let them come to you. Hell Dave’s single family home in the good neighborhood probably cost twice what Brian paid for the four buildings that were being transformed into their headquarters. But in a couple years it would be worth hundreds of times what it was purchased for and he was sure Dave couldn’t say the same.

+

Forget drunk driving or texting, horny driving was the real danger. Justin and Brian didn’t even make it back to the loft. After a blow job in the Jeep they had ended up half naked and humping each other in their elevator. But Justin had won fair and square and was not going to have Brian fast and dirty, he was taking him inside and enjoying the fruits of victory. He all but pushed Brian into the loft and damn it forget Brian making fun of his appetite if he didn’t gain some weight soon he was going to hit GNC for that body builder powder. There was nothing more frustrating than pushing Brian and nothing happening. Brian was lean but he was solid and Justin missed being able to manhandle him right back.

Brian was a dish best served on high thread count Egyptian cotton so they bypassed the sofa while peeling their remaining clothes off each other. It was even an early night compared to when they went clubbing so neither of them would be tired in the morning or late to school and work. Although if Justin had his way; Brian would have trouble sitting.

Brian knelt on the bed and handed the lube over his shoulder, before stretching his arms toward the ceiling and then leaning forward on his hands. Justin said a prayer; God, this man would be the death of him. Justin bent over and licked, working his tongue in, determined that no matter how much Brian bitched and told him to shake a leg he was not rushing it. Brian forgot sometimes that their bodies were younger, tended to draw back into shape faster. And given they had less years of their constant fucking, Brian was considerably less ready to be jumped at a moment’s notice. And no way was Justin going to risk hurting him. He remembered how careful Brian had been the first time, both of them. Sometimes Justin thought that the reverence Brian had shown originally had made him so determined to catch and hold his interest.

As he worked the lube in Justin said, “You are a god, and you deserved to be worshiped. Let me worship you.”

Brian dropped his head down onto his hands and spread his thighs. He thrust his ass back, impaling himself further onto Justin’s fingers and made a noise that went straight to Justin’s cock. Justin hoped he didn’t come all over the duvet before he even got the condom on. Finally he was convinced Brian was ready and he was able to suit up and slide into the best place in the world. He was thankful for having come in the car and the elevator because if he hadn’t this would not be lasting long. In some ways it was great to be eighteen again, recovery time for instance, but he was back on a hair trigger.

Afterwards, Justin wiped Brian down and toweled him dry. Brian just let him, panting heavily. Brian watched him with an almost shy smile as Justin took care of him, offing up no resistance to his tenderness. That was a gift far greater and one Brian gave less often than bottoming. Once Brian was clean and dry Justin pulled up the sheet and duvet that had been bunched at the bottom of the bed and lay on his side next to Brian. Drinking in the way the blue light painted his skin. That velvety skin sheathing all those long lean muscles; his man was a fucking work of art. Sometimes Justin though he should tell him that and not just draw him endlessly. He ran his fingertips over Brian’s shoulders and down his arms, up following the lines of his abs and the dip between his pecs to his neck and jawline.

“It was a nice evening,” Justin said softly.

Brian responded, equally soft, “Yeah, it was.”

 

 


	71. I've been making a man

 

Brian’s response regarding Mother’s Day had been his same as Christmas. He’d given the munchers his sperm, and they weren’t his mother or his spouses so fuck them.  When Justin had suggested sending flowers, Brian made a face and said what they needed was more fucking therapy. Justin let it rest but later called Lorraine and asked if there were any retreats or anything planned saying he was looking for a gift idea. Lorraine said, that while of course she couldn’t discuss her patients or their treatment, she did sometimes host weekend group sessions at Seven Springs in the summer. So Justin called the resort regarding their off season rates. As a ski destination it had other entertainment and hosted things like wine, chocolate and chili events in better weather. But he got the price of an open end summer weekend package, and had a gift certificate mailed to Lindsay and Mel in a Mother’s Day card signed Gus and the new kid. Technically it had been Brian’s idea; he was the one who said they needed therapy. And then on a whim, Justin called his dad at the store with the information just letting him know if hadn’t gotten anything for Mom it would earn him points that he was onboard with her counseling sessions.

The rest of the week flew by, they had gotten permission to set up the coffee station at school but only on the condition that other clubs such as Junior Achievement and the Art Club were in the rotation. So they only manned the station once a week, unless one of the scheduled clubs dropped out due to lack of interest. Daphne now had email addresses for the student councils of most of the schools in Allegheny and the surrounding counties. In addition to weekly updates on the fundraising competition for ‘Everybody’s Child’ she often shared event ideas with her list. She reported on the amounts being raised by their coffee station and suggested the shared responsibility of manning it as a way for smaller clubs to raise funds. Justin told Daphne if she ever ditched medicine for politics Kinnetik wanted to manage her campaign.

It was the Saturday before Mother’s Day when Mel and Lindsay received the gift from Gus and the new kid. Justin fell off the sofa laughing when Brian took the call. First he looked confused and then he pierced Justin with his patented Rage glare.

“Are you going to spank me Mr. Kinney,” Justin asked breathlessly after Brian ended the call and while picking himself up off the floor.

Brian’s glare transformed into a speculative gleam and he said, “You did disregard my nixing the idea of sending a Mother’s Day gift.”

“Point of order, you said that they didn’t need flowers, what they needed was therapy and Lorraine does couple’s retreats at Seven Springs, so technically it was your idea,” Justin said, circling around and keeping the sofa between him and Brian.

Brian sidled the other way and said, “However, now you’ve set a precedent and they’re going to expect Mother’s Day gifts from us every year and when we eventually forget, we’ll be in the dog house.”

“Objection: this gift was not from us. The card was signed from Gus and the new kid; therefore it will be the two of them who are obligated to continue the tradition. We just have to teach them how to shop on the internet and memorize your credit card numbers,” Justin said as Brian finally caught him in his arms.

Brian pulled him down onto the sofa with him and said, “Oh, is that all?”

Saturday was a very good day.  At least until the buzzer interrupted them and they had to redress. Surprisingly it was Michael, buzzing even when he knew Brian was there. They grow up so fast, he thought. It turned out Michael was just now thinking about Mother’s Day. As they had coffee at the kitchen counter Justin suggested, “Maybe you could take Hunter with you to find something.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Michael said.

Justin looked at Brian who kept his face buried in his coffee mug in an indication he was staying the fuck out of it. Justin said, “Because your mom has basically been acting like a mom to him and he might want to get her something, maybe not a Mother’s Day card but maybe a Thank You card and a token gift?”

“I don’t even know the kid. And she’d not his mom, he’s just a boarder at her place,” Michael said.

Brian finally spoke up, “Mikey, if you ever say that near her, you will get head slapped.”

“Fuck head slapped, Michael, if you ever say something like that to social services I know five teenaged girls who will track you down and make you beg to die,” Justin said.

Brian left with Michel to go peruse the local Hallmark store for something hideously schmaltzy for Deb. After they left Justin called Monica and mentioned that someone should check with Hunter, that he might not remember tomorrow was Mother’s Day and that while he might have a crappy mom, maybe he wanted to give Deb a card of some type. She squealed but didn’t have her license so that was how he ended up driving Monica, Brittney and Hunter to the mall. He had already got cards for himself and Molly, and made sure she got them by actually dropping them off along with some pictures to put in the frames she painted at his dad’s main store. That was when he found out his Dad had taken the suggestion regarding the weekend package. If Lorraine didn’t have a couple’s retreat by the end of summer they would just go up for a weekend. Hopefully he wouldn’t end up with a new brother or sister out of the deal.

The girls voted Hunter get Deb a Mother’s Day card but Justin voiced the option of a Thank You and said Hunter should go with what he was comfortable with, not what he thought was expected of him. Hunter decided to go with ‘Thank You’ and also got her a coffee mug from a store that sold nothing but coffee mugs, it said ‘If I Say It; I Mean it.’ They then spent about an hour in the food court patronizing various eateries and rating on a scale of one to ten the men and teens wandering around. While Hunter didn’t seem as into the game as the girls, he did seem to be taking mental notes on the odd things that got men downgraded from their basis looks score, such as being rude to service personnel, not holding a door or giving up a seat for an older woman and looking at other girls when they were obviously with someone.

Sunday, he and Brian were late for brunch due to shower sex and his mom, dad and sister were already at his grandmother’s table. Justin wondered if his dad’s electronic store had a lot of last minute Mother’s Day customers, since that was the excuse he’d used last year to get out of brunch with Gram, but maybe his attending this year was a result of the therapy. The munchers were apparently going to some communal Mother’s Day event where all the lesbians that choose to breed got together and congratulated themselves on a life raising children without men – or at least that was what Brian had said. Brian picked up pink and yellow roses for Elizabeth on the way over and simple said ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ to Jennifer. 

Molly was practically dancing in place for them to open her picture frames. After suitably oohing and ahhing over her work they opened Justin’s. The trays were simple each solid, pink or blue, the edges of the lips of the trays that curved up to keep things from sliding off were just touched with the silver or gold respectively and having a simple starburst pattern in the center in the same metallic as the edging. Molly in an effort to coordinate their gifts had stuck to the same colors and painted her picture frames pink or blue respectively. Each of them had the risen letters for ‘Mother’ and ‘Grandmother’ which she had used the metallic accent paint on. She had picked the frames for them for the ease of painting because as she had said, she was the smart one not the artistic one. There was a recent photo of him and Moll in them, taken that night at ‘Color Me Mine’ on his digital camera by Sep, it was a close up of them holding paint brushes and grinning at the camera.

The talk at the table was light during brunch and Justin was pleased he and his father were able to make small talk as it seemed to relax his mom. Bertie joined them afterward for coffee and was looking better. He asked about the situation at school and if they had ever found out who vandalized the locker. Bertie was particularly interested since there had been some anti-Semite vandalism at his school when he was Justin’s age.

“All the lockers were repainted by the next morning, Hunt ordered the memory card of the digital camera wiped and they didn’t even questioned one student,” Justin said in disgust.

Craig asked, “Is that why the Dae girl showed up during a school day to do an emergency data transfer from a one memory card to another using two of my display models?”

“Craig,” Brian said, “welcome to the world of student espionage.”

“Make a joke, Brian, but she was doing the dahn, da, dahn, dahn, dahn, da of the ‘Theme to Mission Impossible’ for a week after that,” Justin groused, “we did preserve the evidence and there are several copies of the photos printed. I have a firm with a file ready to go if we find we can pursue legal action for any reason. Here’s hoping we don’t need it.”

Justin was glad that just an hour of so out of his week kept him in touch with his family. His dad, well if not growing on him wasn’t as big of an asshole as he remembered. And a whole extra year with Grandmother was often something he forgot to be thankful for; along with Brian’s apparent grudging tolerance of his dick-softening domesticity.

They were avoiding the topic of Prom like the plague and were laying around naked later discussing going to New York for a couple days once classes ended. The last time they’d played tourists staying in Manhattan like in the early days when Justin had just moved there. But they were now talking about heading to Brooklyn and the area Justin had lived for over ten years. Brian had dumped Britin at a ridiculous profit a year or so after he bought it in favor of finding Justin a place in DUMBO. Once he’d seen the apartment Justin was paying over a thousand a month to couch surf at and the fucking crack house, Brian’s words, of a studio he was painting in Brian had thrown a queen out and hired a broker.

Fortunately, as they hadn’t known the future then, the bubble burst between unloading Britin and finding a place Brian considered safe and sanitary that had enough light and space to function as an apartment and studio. Justin place on Water Street had been surprisingly spacious for being one subway stop from Manhattan, safe, and light enough to serve as a studio. And from one of the windows, okay the bathroom window had a killer view of the Manhattan skyline. He’d rented it for two years but when the building went condo in 2007 they bought it. DUMBO was an artsy community that had them both sneering at all the pretentious drivel spouted by the neighbors but they had both known the restaurants and stores of New York better than Pittsburgh by 2010.

Brian was still adamant that Justin go to college, even if it was to study, as he put it, the fucking philosophy of time travel. Which given some of the weird majors Carnegie Mellon offered just might be listed in ‘self-design’ or something.  Justin was considering kidnapping Brian and just getting him out of town for his birthday, Prom, everything; since the suspense was killing them both. It was hard because all his friends were fucking teenagers and chomping at the bit to start life and he just wanted to slow down and hide out with his boyfriend.

Sep had met a boy while she was touring just about every college in a fifty mile radius, some student at PIFA no less and Justin wondered if it would be someone he’d had a class with, not that he remembered many people from his time there. Daph was in her on and off thing with Andrew, where she spent most of her time exasperated at his ‘fear of queer’ and longing for her true love, Johns Hopkins. Tracy still wasn’t dating Paul but was thinking she wanted to have sex with him, leaving Justin in the weird position of feeling oddly protective of Paul. The big dumb jock worshipped Tracy and Justin got the impression that Paul was some strange zoo exhibit to her. Kind of like she thought, oh so this is what Daddy’s been keeping away from me, let’s get a closer look. Although Tracy was pretty strange and maybe she really did like Paul in more than a ‘I want to get a closer look at your dangly bits’ kind of way. And Mon and Brit were just starting to realize that they would be stuck in St. James another year, without the buffer of the rest of their crowd.

September’s membership drives had resulted in quite a few people stopping in sporadically to the meetings before and after classes. They’d passed out enough condoms and detailed instructions on students’ right to safety and how to file a Title Nine complaint to have Hunt’s head spinning. It looked like next Friday was going to be another field trip to the clinic for disease screenings although there were other drivers scheduled from their few drop-ins and Justin was planning to give it a pass. Monica was keeping track of who attended and how many would be returning students. She was already listed as President for next year and Brit was stepping in as Vice President Membership. Brittney seemed optimistic that even if they couldn’t get people to participate in events or fundraisers they could get eight names to sign up next year. They had fourteen people who were coming back who were willing to let their names be presented at the next school board meeting on Thursday. Mr. Omler was going to present that along with details on how the club was in the running to receive an award for top fundraiser in Allegheny County from ‘Everybody’s Child’ for the 2001 school year.

Daphne and Justin had already contacted Emmett about arranging a small awards banquet for the winners in the fall. Since they weren’t sure if Daphne could get back for it they had already scheduled Councilman Deekins to speak and issue the awards on behalf of ‘Everybody’s Child’. Unless some of the larger schools pulled out all the stops before the July thirty first cut of date, St. James was a shoe in for Allegheny County, but they were planning to invite the top four schools for each county. This year only the ten counties surrounding Allegheny had been participating but Daphne and Monica had been building contacts and every school in the state would be offered the chance to participate in the 2002 school year. And next year the top fundraising school in the state would receive a five thousand dollar scholarship to be awarded based upon community involvement. Daphne may have been turning over ‘The Saint James Gay Straight Alliance’ to Mon as of the last day of school, but she had plans for ‘Everybody’s Child'. By the time she finished her undergrad years she wanted a branch in Philadelphia and participation in the fundraising competition by at least one school in every county of Pennsylvania. By the time she finished medical school she wanted the competition happening in every state. Justin figured Canada was lucky she didn’t have her eye on them as well. And by the time she finished her residency she wanted every major metropolitan area to have volunteers in their social services structure flagging candidates who would most benefit from the charity.

Justin had a feeling the coming board meeting would be another mass attendance. September had plans to once again film it. He was worried now that Sep’s career goals maybe leaning toward corporate spy. He wondered if the locker vandalism would be brought up at the meeting.

“I can hear the gears chugging away in your head,” Brian murmured, dragging his fingers slowly back along Justin’s scalp.

Justin said, “I’m thinking about kidnapping you. Taking you somewhere to hide until all this crap is over.”

“There’ll always be more crap,” Brian said. “We can’t spend our whole lives running. Look forward to the good things, and try to dodge the bad, that’s all anyone can do.”

“Solid food,” Justin said.

Brian chuffed a breath and drawled, “The countdown continues.”

“Do you want to go to Prom with me?” Justin asked and with his head resting on Brian’s stomach he felt him stop breathing and his fingers stilled in Justin’s hair. After a beat, Justin said, “Prom will go on whether we’re there or not, I just figured being there, maybe it would be less stressful than worrying about it from afar.”

Brian’s fingers tugged on his hair and his breathing started but he was quiet. Finally, hardly more than a whisper, Brian said, “that was a really bad night.”

Justin swallowed, remembering that he didn’t remember, not like Brian did. There were bits and pieces that blended with fifteen years of this man taking him in his strong arms and the world just dropping away. But Brian remembered; the smell of gasoline on the concrete surface of the garage floor along with the coppery scent of slick, then tacky blood coating his hands, the hours in antiseptic poorly lit corridors waiting for the information no one was sharing with him regarding Justin’s chances to live. Justin rolled up onto his elbow, looking into Brian’s haunted eyes, “I’m sorry-”

“Don’t,” Brian growled. “Don’t you ever apologize for what that bastard did.”

Justin said, “I’m not. I’m apologizing for asking you to go back and relive all that. I know you relive it enough in your nightmares.”

Brian almost tenderly traced where Justin’s scar would have been and swallowed harshly before he said, “You’re right. We would both end up huddled on the floor, drunk and crying because for all we knew it was Daphne who would be taking the brunt of Chris Hobbes pathetic teenaged angst. So we go and keep an eye out for trouble. And you swear to me you will not leave my side the whole damn night, not more than six inches from me, preferably in physical contact with me; and we fucking valet park the car.”

“Anything you want,” Justin said and leaned in to give him a hard kiss.

+

At school most of their plans and talk revolved around getting the alliance formalized and permitted to be an ongoing club. Daphne, while planning to attend the meeting, was not speaking and not nearly as nervous as last time. She was however fired up and planned to use the vandalism of Niles locker against them if they tried to use it as a reason to disband them. Brian agreeing to attend Prom was looked as a reason to continue their plans to attend together as a group because, one Hunt would freak if he realized Justin’s date was a thirty year old man and two, Paul still wouldn’t be able to pick Tracy up at her parents’ house so she and Sep were doing a sleep over and the whole ‘it’s all of us together’ song and dance so Tracy could go. Justin asked if Sep was bringing her PIFA and she said he had some sort of recital to attend so she was dateless as well. Andrew wanted to take Daphne as a couple but she told him it was with all of them or nothing and he hadn’t got back to her. Technically Paul and Mike were taking Monica and Brit since only seniors and their dates were invited. Niles wasn’t planning to go but the girls were currently strong arming him. At times like these Niles shot him one of his incredibly dry looks that spoke volumes, usually in regard to how much happier he’d been as a social outcast.

Brian had been working like crazy but now that Cynthia was on board things were much better. They were hitting Woody’s ever night for at least a couple hours and Babylon twice before Thursday. While still cutting back on his drinking there was a frenetic quality to his tricking. These weren’t relaxing take out session. It was fast and hard and up to three a night; Brian’s way of managing the stress as Prom looming closer like some harbinger of doom.

The GSA all headed to Liberty Diner after the board meeting to rehash. Well not Mr. Omler, although Justin was beginning to wonder about him. How could he have missed that there had been a supportive member on staff. Last time he was in the art club this year and had spent a lot more time with Mr. Omler than he did this year. Yet Mr. Omler never stepped up during the locker incident like he had this time. Hell he’d been the one to suggest to Sep that if someone copied the date off the camera’s memory card that there was no way their technologically inept old art teacher would know. Granted after 2005 Justin’s involvement in the Pittsburgh gay scene had consisted mostly of flying in for fast hard fucks, but Justin was sure that he would remember if he ran into one of his teachers in or around the typical haunts. So maybe Mr. Omler was just a concerned hetro, stranger things were known to be. Or, and it was weird how often thoughts like this crept into his daily life, Mr. Omler was another person, thrust back into his own past and his lack of involvement or stepping forward was something he had always regretted.

Niles, Mike and Paul had never been to the diner and were staring openly at the drag queens and rent boys. Kiki was working that night so they were spared the wonder of Deb. September seemed to be enjoying their reactions immensely. Despite Hunt posturing regarding the club being a disruption the signed list of members returning next year got the board to approve it. Not to mention the details on their charitable activities. The locker incident was not mentioned and other than go over budget items and a proposal for repaving the student parking lot, no mention was made of all the Title Nine complaints or the concerns expressed regarding the toxic atmosphere in the last meeting.

“It feels like a powder keg,” Justin said, hoping he was just projecting his fears and what had happened before on the current events, “Like something is about to happen, something bad.”

“Worse than fire in a locker?” Daphne snorted.

Justin said, “You keep focusing on the fire; I’ll keep harping on the death threat.”

“I’m not sure ‘die fag’ counts as a death threat,” Niles said.

Justin gave him a hard, haunted look and said, “Did you fucking tank the verbal on SATs? Verb, noun; message received.”

Devon and Drew walked in, obviously out clubbing and Devon did his deer in the headlights impression. Justin rolled his eyes and said, “I can’t believe you came. You should just put your damn name on the roster.”

Devon wasn’t that quick on the uptake, or was just frozen in panic because it was Drew who said, “My fault I wanted to hear the news.”

So they crowded in and pretended to be politically active straight boys, who just happened to be wearing slutty club clothes. Justin wondered what the rest of the locals would think of all the teens taking up two adjacent booths. Justin was facing away from the door and only had time to see Drew’s eyes widen as he was pulled up and pressed against Brian; pupils blown, high on E Brian. Okay so most of his friends were getting oddly blasé about them disappearing to bathrooms together. He should probably be more disturbed by that.

After a fast fuck in the bathroom he said he’d see everyone tomorrow, ditched his satchel in the jeep along with his over shirt stripping down to a blue tank top and heading back to Babylon with Brian. That turned out to be good because Lindsay called the next day and ask if they could take Gus for the night. Apparently she and Mel were ‘doing homework’, which Brian said was probably a euphemism for having sex. Brian thoroughly approved of dykes using euphemisms for sex since he didn’t like to think of them having sex. So they had a boys’ night on Friday, which involved sex when Gus was napping and playing the new standing game when he was awake.

When they dropped Gus off on Saturday, Lindsay suggested she and Brian go shopping together for his birthday; given it was such an important one. Brian wasn’t the only one to give her a confused look. But then, Justin thought, after having lived though both his fortieth and forty fifth with him, thirty was a walk in the park. He wondered if Michael was planning the same damn dumb party at the funeral home as the last time Brian had turned thirty. Not living at Deb’s this time he was out of the loop on what the rest of Brian’s friends were planning for Monday night.

Justin asked if they were planning any big event for Gus’ first solids on Wednesday and Lindsay confessed she had already tied to get him to eat and he would just cry and bat the spoon away. Justin was kind of pissed that they missed it and judging by the set of Mel’s mouth she hadn’t approved. But Brian looked speculative and asked, “What did you try to start him on?”

“Baby food,” she replied.

Brian rolled his eyes and said, “Yeah but what, banana, sweet potato, carrot?”

“I think it was sweet potato,” Lindsay headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge and pulled out a small jar and said, “Sweet potato. He just fussed and pushed it away. You want to try? I don’t think you have any better luck but maybe now that he hasn’t already had a bottle he’ll try it.”

Brian handed Gus to her and washed his hands at the kitchen sink. He took out a saucer and spooned out some of the sweet potato food onto it with the tiny baby spoon and dug through the diaper bag to get a bottle. He squeezed some of the breast milk from the bottle onto the sweet potato and stirred it with the tiny rubber-coated baby spoon. Sitting at the kitchen table next to the soupy mixture on the saucer he held his hands out for Gus. As Lindsay handed the baby over, Gus tried to reach for the bottle and Brian said, “Watch this,” in that little boy Peter Pan voice he used, “it’s so cool. You’ll like this.” 

He dipped a finger into the thin mix of food and breast milk and put it into Gus’ mouth, quickly depositing the bulk of it inside. He said, “How’s that Sonny boy? Pretty good, huh?” Justin remembered what a fussy baby Jenny had been and how the hard spoon had been something she’d never liked. Gus seemed surprised but he was licking his lips. Brian waited until he started to reach for the bottle again before giving him another finger swipe of food to taste.

“It hardly seems enough,” Lindsay said frowning at the glop on the saucer.

Justin asked, “Isn’t his stomach the size of his fist right now? I mean sure he’ll be hungry again in an hour but I would think a tablespoon is a lot right now. Brian do you have any food allergies?” Brian shook his head, and Justin knew that but wanted the girls thinking. Gus had been allergic to strawberries last time. But last time he’d been started on solids early, like sometime in February. They had discussed it and there was no way of knowing short of testing and he was too young. All they could do was get the mothers thinking about it and watching for rashes.

They went home and collapsed because babies, even one, even a kid you loved were soul sucking monsters and it had been an emotionally draining week. They were dreading the coming week, Brian’s birthday, and Prom – mostly prom. While the collective female members of Justin’s group were wildly scheduling mani/peds, weird waxing rituals, facials, tanning sessions and appointments for up-dos, Justin and Brian were just planning to wear the tuxes from the Gala and debating if they should book a room and change at the venue.

Brian abruptly segued and said, “I guess Lindsay’s the Judas goat this year.”

“Huh?” Justin asked, snuggling closer and sliding his top leg between Brian’s, enjoying the warms slide of skin against skin even if Brian was choosing to not make sense.

Brian said, “Lindsay, last time we went shopping earlier, now she must be the one in charge of getting me to the funeral parlor. Mikey wasn’t at all subtle last time, but she’s good. I wonder if she’ll  try to convince me a new tailor is working out of the building or something.”

“Not to get your hopes of but maybe with the affair and Mel being pregnant and Michael and David becoming full time parents, at least for the summer, they’ll actually do what you ask and do nothing for your thirtieth birthday,” Justin said.

Brian didn’t say a word but his look spoke volumes and Justin added, “Right, what am I thinking.”

 

 


	72. With blond hair and a tan

 

Monday at lunch, Justin happened to mention it was Brian’s birthday when he declined to go shopping with Daphne after school for Prom stuff.

“What are you doing tonight,” she asked, making him the center of attention of their group, “something romantic?”

“Just dinner in, I didn’t want something too elaborate because I suspect his harebrained friends are up to something and didn’t want to have to cancel reservations at the last minute,” Justin said.

Sep offered, “Want me to pump Em for details? Wait, if they’re planning something why not let you in on it? You are his guy; they aren’t giving you shit are they?”

“Stand down, Pink Ranger,” Justin said, “They’re fine. They just think of me as an eighteen year old kid. Maybe they’re afraid I’ll spill the big secret. It’s probably something in really poor taste. You know guys, always going for each other’s weak spots,” and he nodded to Mike and Paul who just nodded in agreement, “Brian’s been the hottest guy for a long time, of course their going to make fun of him aging.”

Sep had her phone out and was off to a quiet corner. Justin hoped Em didn’t mind her interrupting his day. But he wouldn’t mind a heads up; there were disadvantages to not being tapped into the Debbie Broadcasting System. But seriously, what if they had wanted a romantic dinner out? Apparently something was being planned because Sep was gesturing broadly while on the phone with Emmett.

Daphne was bitching about Andrew asking Missy Campbell to Prom and Tracy was trying to put a positive spin on it saying that was good because then he’d be there to see how good Daphne looked in her prom dress and what he was missing due to his lack of balls. Sometime Justin loved Tracy, just a little bit. September rejoined them with a dramatic flounce and said, “Justin, are you telling me that regardless of how old they get guys are always complete douche bags?”

“I haven’t actually said anything. Why are you queening out?” Justin said.

“So, Brian’s best friend – and Tracy I don’t appreciate you enough, you are fucking awesome – thinks it hi-larious,” and she drawled that word out as if she thought Michael should be institutionalized, “to have a party at a funeral home. He had his uncle make a cake in the shape of a tombstone, there’s going to be a coffin – what a riot,” Sep said. “So I asked Em, would this be the same funeral home he just laid his dad out in?”

“Fuck,” Justin said.           

“Fortunately my cousin’s boyfriend has a better vocabulary than you, or at least classier,” Sep said. “Emmett is making some calls to see if they want to move it to his place. Listen Justin, I think it’s really sweet that Brian chose a special needs person as his best friend but you have to put your foot down and have them run all future fuck ups by you first.”

+

It was nearly six when Justin arrived at Debbie’s place and was let in or rather hugged in by a very busy Emmett. Debbie must still be at work because the Novatny/Grassi residence was not permeated with the smell of high carb Italian food; although it was draped with black banners and black balloons and had the tombstone cake prominently displayed. But Emmett was dishing out some of Brian’s favorite Thai, from the good place in Squirrel Hill, into chafing dishes lined up on the kitchen table.

Lindsay was apparently still leading Brian on a merry shopping distraction while everyone gathered. Michael seemed put out by the last minute change in venue but Em had him distracted by making him help with the decorations. It was only what Justin considered the family attending. Well HD was a new addition, but Ted hadn’t brought a date. Brian actually had friends that weren’t Michael, Ted and Emmett. But none of his work associates or non-sex acquaintances had been invited. If they had actually brought Justin in on this shindig he could have filled their loft with friends, probably more than had come to his own party. But then few of them would have participated in some awkward attempt to humiliate the guest of honor in a funeral home. Sometimes Michael had the common sense of a doorknob. It was one of the reasons Brian had spent most of his birthdays in New York in the future.

While Justin had a laundry list of what he considered Michael’s developmental shortcomings, Brian’s birthday was not the time to address them, so Justin ended up out of the way sitting out in the backyard with Vic and Dave, talking about Hank’s coming visit, Hunter’s upcoming placement test and fundraiser Liberty House was scheduling to coincide with Pride in June. Dave was okay; kind of boring but Justin was glad Brian had put Dave in touch with his mom regarding the program Hank and Molly would be attending that summer. And not just so they could share drop off and pick up duties. Brian had pointed out that if Craig had to be exposed to homosexuals; Dave was probably a good choice. He wasn’t threatening, he was a professional and aside from differing where they wanted to stick their dicks, he was a lot like Craig. Justin chose to interpret that as boring.

+

Brian kept his smirk to himself. WASP she may be, fashion conscious at least in respect to most dykes, and still possessing the effortless elegance of the country club set, but Lindsay was out of her class when it came to retail therapy when pitted against him. Aside from the fucking potential disaster with Prom and all the related PTSD it dredged up Brian was still occasionally knocked for a loop by his so called friends. Yeah, the first time thought he’d been just as fucking immature and a bigger asshole than any of them. But Jesus there was a difference between poking fun at someone being a couple months older than you and dragging them to a funeral home, or the fucking plastic surgeon Mikey had taken him to for a consult when he turned forty. Brian would never admit to Justin but he was right, God knew he loved him but Mikey was stunted in regard to certain social skills. If Michael had dragged him off privately to the funeral home, it would have been a joke between friends, but he’d always figured the whole thing had been some passive-aggressive payback for Mikey’s own party.

The time Michael took him to the surgeon; he had actually booked a real consult. Michael really should have let the surgeon in on joke or just hired a stripper to pretend to be the doctor. Mikey had complained about the doctor billing him for it for fucking ever after that. It wasn’t like Brian hadn’t played along and it was Michael’s idea. Mikey had had to sit there as Brian had voiced concerns about Botox reducing his elasticity and the need to have total control of his facial expressions in his business. Come to think of it he had landed that surgical offices account from that visit. Five offices around the city and it had expanded to Philadelphia and Ohio. Huh, no wonder Michael had bitched about footing the bill. But who expects you to pay for your own birthday present?

“Let me see this one,” Brian said, he pointed to a Rolex.

Lindsay said, “Wow. You are treating yourself.”

“Not that I don’t deserve it, but I was thinking for Justin. Graduation,” Brian said.

Lindsay’s eyes widen and she bit her lip but said nothing. Brian knew if she was not in the doghouse due to the New York trip she’d be all over him for first the car and now a watch over 3.5k. Brian was tempted to let her do her own passive-aggressive thing with stoic silence but they had hit nothing but men’s stores as part of the shopping diversion, so he offered, “He’s not after my money. He wants my great big cock; even if I am borderline geriatric.”

“He’s just so young,” she offered. “He’s got his whole life ahead of him and he’ll be starting college.”

Brian did smirk now and said, “He’s not exactly the frat party type. Not just a club boy either; Justin is in a class by himself. He knows what he wants and has the savoir faire to get it.” He had always known that about Justin, but meeting Elizabeth, and even dinning with Uncle Will and Craig had opened his eyes to what he really came from. Once Craig and Jennifer had split, she had pretty much embraced the Liberty crew and they really hadn’t mingled with her old crowd. But Jen came from money with a capital M. It made her adaptability with Justin and putting her life back together with Tucker much more impressive.  Brian added, “His grandmother may be old money but his parents are the typical upper class country club set mainly due to Craig’s business. Justin doesn’t need me Lindz, he wants me.”

“I thought everybody wanted you,” she said teasingly.

Brian looked at her and for once wasn’t teasing, “Of course they do, but Justin’s the only one I want back.”

The clerk finally found the keys to the cabinet the Rolex was in, he removed the watch and handed it to Brian saying, “It’s a vintage Oyster Perpetual Air King in superb condition, stainless steel, water resistant a perfect starter watch.”

Brian tuned him out and turned the watch over; the blue face would match that vest they had purchased with Justin’s tux. Justin wore a lot of blue. It looked good on him. It was simple, sleek, classy, and didn’t cost a fortune. Justin never wanted to worry he’d break or lose something. Four thousand was a fair price and this one was only 3.8k he knew places he could get it for less but he’d shopped here before, they never had knockoffs or counterfeits and he liked the privacy of a privately owned business as opposed to the chains in a fucking mall.

“Wrap it up,” Brian said, handing over both his credit card and business card he added, “and give me a call if you ever want to expand your client base.”

After he and Lindsay left the Clark Building they went into Brooks Brothers and he was sorting through the ties and accessories and he saw the scarf. That white silk one he had purchased so many years ago. God he couldn’t wait for June and Pride and the time when they had put the whole fucking high school drama behind them for good. Was it too late to just run Chris fucking Hobbes down with his car? Lindz was an awful driver surely no one would suspect her.

“Brian? You’re going to tear that. Are you getting it?” she asked

Brian dropped it as if it was on fire and said, “Fuck no. If we’re going for bondage I want leather.”

“Brian!” she said, and apparently he had shocked the old geezer behind the counter who had mistaken them for a hetro couple. He loved her but he hated being mistaken for straight the way straight men must hate being mistaken for gay. Not that he planned to flirt with the old fossil just to set him, if you will, straight.

He was kind of confused why Lindsay was blushing, she was usually tickled to be mistaken for the Mrs. Come to think of it, now that he was looking at she was kind of bright eyed and seemed to be perspiring, just the slightest sheen of sweat on her forehead and the flush what he’d mistaken for a blush wasn’t fading now that the old guy wasn’t looking at them like they might slip off to fuck in the dressing room.  He asked, “Do you need to sit down?”

She looked at him as if she was going to say no but then looked around as if trying to spot a chair. There was one over by the shoes and he went with her and asked, “Are you sick?”

“No. I’m fine. I’m fighting a bug. You’re out of my class in the shopping Olympics. I’d forgotten what keeping up with you was like,” she said with a smile. “How are you? You’ve always dreaded thirty, like it was the end of the world.”

“I’m good. Turns out when you are thirty it doesn’t seem that old,” Brian said.

Despite spending a lot of time lately wanting to choke her, she was still Lindz. The Wendy to his Peter, the mother of his kid, a good friend despite how fucking stupid and selfish she could be. He’d never got how she could still look down on him from her ivory tower of monogamy when it was built on such shifting sands but she’d kind of outgrown it, eventually, or developed the wherewithal to keep her mouth shut if she hadn’t by the time he, well, died. He’d forgotten how beautiful she was when they were young, by forty five she’d plumped up and the lines around her eyes and mouth had, well Emmett had said they proudly proclaimed a happy life but Em was a permanent resident in fucking Oz. Feeling magnanimous Brian said, “you look good for thirty.”

“Brian! I don’t turn thirty until August,” Lindsay squawked.

He laughed because that would teach him to be nice and said, “Sorry, Mom.”

“You’re forgiven. Would you mind dropping me off, I’m supposed to meet Mel,” Lindsay said as she checked her watch. And so it began. Brian was interested in seeing how you subtly steered someone to a funeral home. Last time they had just kidnapped him and dragged him there since Mikey had no WASP superpowers.

“Sure, where are you meeting her?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.

Lindsay said, “At Debbie’s, she wanted to see Gus. Apparently you haven’t brought him into the diner or over to her place enough.”

That was unexpected, why have her follow him around his shopping haunts if she wasn’t to get him to the funeral parlor? Maybe she would just turn him over to Mikey and he’d be strong armed all over again. But Justin had never lived with Deb. They better not be excluding Justin from this cluster fuck, although all things considered with how Justin was getting in their faces more often than not, maybe he’d went off on them again.

+

Emmett had actually offered his place with two and a half baths and room to dance all on one level. Why they were all squeezed into Deb’s place where there was one bathroom, upstairs, was beyond him.  Michael had only told them all on Saturday about his great idea for a party at the funeral home. It never occurred to Emmett he hadn’t checked with Justin. What if they had decided to head out of town, or had plans somewhere? Apparently other than a cake and a death theme Michael had only a vague idea of how great it would be for everyone to poke fun at Brian aging. There was no shame in admitting your skills lay in other areas, why Michael hadn’t done what Brian did and turn the whole thing over to him – before the day of the event – was beyond Emmett. It wasn’t like he didn’t do this for a living; he would have done it for cost. Brian was his friend too.

When September had called and said Justin was planning a romantic dinner for Brian’s birthday and she was just checking to confirm none of them had plans to ruin it, he’d been shocked. Justin and Brian were joined at the hip when not at work or school, had Michael not invited Justin to Brian’s birthday party/kidnapping/assault? So he had spilled Michael’s super-secret birthday surprise and almost swallowed his tongue when she had said dryly, “that’s real tasteful. Is it at that same funeral parlor he just spent all those hours at when his father died? Say, maybe you can all take him out to his dad’s grave that should be a hoot. This isn’t at all like you, Em; you’re not mean. Which one of his fucktard friends is doing this?”

Emmett was relieved that none of Justin’s friends were on Michael’s guest list. September had no use for him and she’d never met Michael as far as Emmett knew, oh wait she had at the diner before Rocky Horror. Deb was on her shit list for badmouthing Brian within her hearing. All of Justin’s little gal pals adored Brian. He was hot and he treated Justin well, so he could do no wrong as far as they were concerned. Half of gay Pittsburgh felt the same way without the caveat that he treated his lover well. The other half, hated him either because he hadn’t fucked them or because he had and it didn’t magically change their lives and social capital.

Actually the only people on the guest list were Michael’s family, Mel and Lindsay and Teddy and he. Well and their steadies. Dave was here, Huxley of course, but Ted hadn’t brought Kevin. Mel had just arrived with the baby and joined Justin and the others out back. Of course while setting out the buffet of Thai in chaffing dishes Emmett had to ask, just to make sure everything was going well why Kevin wasn’t with Ted. Ted had said flat out that he hadn’t asked Kevin to come; he was indiscrete and he didn’t want stories of what Michael had planned circulating as entertainment among the A-gays. That could be a problem for those two, because while dear Teddy loved to gossip, he did not like to be gossiped about. Well no one did really.

Ted had been a darling and stopped for ice cream at ‘Cold Stone’ at the last minute. Not that Brian would eat it or the cake really, but the others would and it just wasn’t a birthday without cake and ice cream. Huxley had went for and picked up Thai. The decorations came from Em’s own stash. Black wasn’t popular but in Pittsburgh, with the team colors being black and gold it was always on hand. So Michael’s whole plan had apparently been a cake, some balloons and a coffin. September was right; Brian should get a new best friend. But he had in a way; Justin, as Emmett had told Teddy months ago, Justin was it for Brian, and it showed.

“Didn’t Brian throw this guy a big party, rent a dance floor, blow up pictures and cater enough food that even I wasn’t hungry?” HD asked, “I get that he couldn’t out do that, or the shindig Brian had for Justin’s birthday but this is just sad. Not being a professional maybe I’m wrong but the emotion this seems to convey is morose.”

It wasn’t much of a party, take out, some tasteless decorations and a cake. There wasn’t room for dancing. He’d seen Brian and Justin swing dance to Brian Setzer at Justin’s birthday party and had to say those boys could stop the show at Babylon if they ever did that in public. For someone who didn’t dance well freeform to club music, Brian could really cut a rug when there were steps involved.

HD had just come in from getting his gift for Brian out of his truck and set it over in the corner with the others. Since Emmett had gone with tickets, his own was just a card. He liked that Huxley thought of Brian as a friend. The whole don’t you work for me, well you can always fire me, routine they regularly exchanged was all in play.

Michael started moving the pile of gifts to the coffee table and grabbed the crate Emmett had wrapped for HD, only to find he couldn’t lift it. Michael said, “That’s not an Easy Cake oven.”

HD said, “Its bourbon. He’s gonna need it.”

“Because he’s so old?” Michael asked with a lopsided grin.

HD waited a beat, just looking at him. Emmett knew he wasn’t trying to be scary despite towering over Michael and looking at him like that. Emmett had seen Huxley do this before, it was as if he stopped himself from speaking, thought things over and then usually swallowed what he wanted to say, often to keep the peace or just because he knew Emmett didn’t really like conflict. But this time he asked, “Aren’t you older than him? In fact isn’t everyone but Emmett and me; and well Justin, older than him?”

“I think Lindsay’s a couple months younger,” Ted offered from where he was smirking over the cake, “but yeah, Mel is, I am, Dave sure is. Maybe a case isn’t enough.”

Emmett tittered because Teddy had such a way of saying things, in that dry, rueful voice you almost didn’t know he was pointing out that Michael really needed to drop the age jokes. Talk about glass houses, Emmett hadn’t even though how all this funeral nonsense for thirty must seem to Dave who was pushing forty five.

Since the weather was nice and they certainly needed the extra space Dave was out helping Justin and Vic set up some card tables out in the back yard for dinning alfresco. So Emmett took the opportunity to offer advice and maybe prevent a repeat of this little soiree and said, “You must be planning something for David’s big four five. Don’t forget a party planner can make sure all the little details are taken care of -- ahead of time. His birthday is in September right? Shame his boy won’t still be here for it. You’ll want to start getting a guest list in mind. The University Club terrace would be ideal at that time of the year, or I just organized a charity golf event over in South Hills Country Club, maybe David would like a sporting event, he doesn’t really seem the wild party type.”

Michael looked nonplus and Emmett added, “You can’t just throw a do like that with no prep. You need to have his friends save the date so they don’t make plans and reserve a venue. I’ll do it for cost Michael you and David are friends.”

HD snorted at the look on Michael’s face and went outside. Emmett wasn’t sure if it was Huxley’s need to find something to do, or another way of biting his tongue in regard to Michael.

“Is he here yet?” Debbie asked, as she hurried though the door.

Michael said, “Lindsay is supposed to keep him busy until six thirty. We have time.”

“It is six thirty,” Hunter said coming down the stair case. “Can I eat now?”

“Brian’s always late,” Michael said.

At the same time Debbie asked, “Not until Brian gets here. Where’s Vic?”

Hunter shrugged and Michael said, “He’d setting up the folding tables in the yard to give more space.”

“Brian’s here,” Emmett said; peeking at the car that pulled in front.

Michael said, “It’s early.”

“Michael, he can’t be late if he doesn’t know what time to come. Lindsay is the one who got him here,” Ted said.

The door opened and Lindsay preceded Brian and they could hear him ask, “We don’t knock?”

“Surprise,” Emmett said.

Michael added, “You’re early.”

“I didn’t actually know I was expected,” Brian said.

+

Shaking his head, HD had found the four of them and the baby sitting at one of the folding tables just shooting the breeze. That was smart because it was too damn crowded with everyone inside draping black bunting over anything that stayed still long enough. He snagged one of the spindly metal chairs from the other table, turned it around and folded himself down into it with his chin on his forearms as they rested along the back of it.

That Michael guy had some sort of disability. It was sweet how all his friends and family seemed reluctant to point it out. But really there was a point when you accommodated to the detriment of everyone including the afflicted. If little Michael had pulled this shit on him he would have taken him aside and explained that Emmett had other people in his life, and that while it was okay to want special private time with Emmett where his attention was sole focused on Michael, on days like birthdays you needed to share with other friends. Emmett had called in a flutter because Sep spilled that Justin not only hadn’t been made aware of any plans with the rest of them but had his own plans to make dinner for Brian.

So it fell to Emmett to contact Justin and arrange for him to come over to Michael’s mother’s house.  Why, if Michael was insisting on throwing a party for Brian, it wasn’t at his place hadn’t been addressed. According to Em when Michael had greeted Justin at the door with ‘where’s your present’, it was the first Michael had personally addressed Justin regarding Brian’s birthday at all. And Justin’s frosty, ‘at home with the four course meal I was preparing’ kind of gave an indication that the two of them were still working on a custody agreement for Brian.

It wasn’t like his own brother didn’t have social lapses. Jake, when they’d found themselves back with a teenaged Marc hadn’t been able to stop snickering because Marc had been so much more mature by the time ‘Iron Man’ debuted that they had never noticed the similarities between him at sixteen and Tony Stark. Like Tony, with Marc the problem was he was just so much smarter than everyone else that he dismissed them as wrong or incapable of keeping up and plowed ahead without their input. HD was pretty sure brains weren’t Michael’s problem. It was more some form of social blindness. Marc saw the social cues and could read emotional nuances; he just didn’t give a damn. Michael had some sort of inability similar to his own, where he couldn’t see color Michael seemed to miss some other indicator.

+

HD said nothing but the look he shot Justin spoke volumes; it practically shouted why haven’t you put an end to this?

Justin, in the lull in conversation HD’s arrival had brought decided to answer with words, “For the record, I was informed of this train wreck at lunch.”

“It’s not so bad,” Mel said. “Brian always says he doesn’t want a party. Well it’s not really a party, just take out and cake with friends.”

“Additionally,” Dave offered, “while I thought the cake would be amusing, I thought the coffin was taking it a step too far. But I don’t always get the Brian and Michael dynamic. I figured it might be some sort of inside joke.”

“It might be time to stage some sort of intervention before he plans Dave’s birthday,” Justin said. And while David’s eyes widened at that he said nothing. HD snorted and Vic grinned.

Before long everyone including Brian and Lindsay came out into the yard. It was tight with four small folding tables clustered around but the weather was fine. They had a nice leisurely dinner with good friends and small talk. The buffet was in the kitchen and Gus spend most of the evening on Daddy’s lap, although even with his foray into the adventurous sweet potatoes he was not permitted any Thai. Emmett had ended up in HD’s lap at one portion of the evening and Justin’s eyes met Brian’s in complete synch as they contemplated if the tiny metal folding chair was up to the task of supporting them.

After dinner around eight thirty when the light was dimming and the temperature dropping they adjourned to the living room where there were a pile of presents waiting on the table. Thank God Brian at forty five had learned to simply say ‘Thank you, Em that was very thoughtful’ because Brian at thirty would have looked at the two tickets to ‘The Blue Collar Comedy Tour’ and sent Emmett for drug testing. Either it had to do with years of schmoozing clients and gritting his teeth with art critics or it was the very large boyfriend who looked like he’d take offence if Emmett thought Brian didn’t like the gift.

Lindsay and Mel gave him a spa certificate for a facial and thought it was hysterical. Ted, continuing the age thing gave him a vibrating dildo and some Viagra. Michael got him a sweater vest. What the fuck, wasn’t it almost June? Never mind the advisability of getting Brian clothes, ever. To top it off Justin remembered this damn vest. It was ugly as hell and virtually indestructible. Made of some fabric not found in nature it was stain resident, flame retarded and possibly possessed properties of Kevlar. He should know; he spent years trying to lose it, shrink it or ruin it in some way. Brian had never said it was a gift from Michael and Justin never could figure out why he hung on to the ugly cursed thing. Damn, what had happened to it? It had probably out lived Brian, still sitting in the loft in the back of one of the drawers long after they reset. And that was disturbing to think about, the loft was there and the girls and the kids still going forward in a timeline that he’d left, somehow.  Was he as dead as Brian? Did they find him the next day and think he’d killed himself, or died of a broken heart? He shook off the dark and moody thoughts replacing them with the general pissed-offness that that thing had risen from the dead like the ghoul of bad old man fashions.

HD’s bourbon was not Beam but some small batch distillery from Kentucky. It was one of the ongoing things he and Brian chirped at each other about. Beam being too mainstream or the ‘Pepsi of Bourbon’ as HD called it. After the gifts they broke up into smaller groups and Dave was talking business or politics with Ted, with Michael attentively listening. Brian was on the floor with Gus while Debbie and Lindsay sat near and looked on. Hunter went back to his room to kill zombies or something.  Mel joined HD and Justin while Vic and Em tidied up the buffet. HD said, in regard to the tickets, “I know it’s not something you’d do on your own. But Em’s brother wanted him to go and he’s going to have straight friends with him and Em wanted a more diverse group.”

“He didn’t want you to be the only fags?” Justin asked with a grin.

HD shrugged, “I don’t get it; for most of my life I’ve was one of two non-straight people in my family, in my circle of friends and for all they’d admit to it in my town. I’ve never felt the need to be part of a group.”

“Sometimes there’s safety in numbers,” Mel said.

HD said, “Jud’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he really is trying - for him. It’s not like he invited me and Em to join them so they could lure us to a deserted building and beat us to death, or preach the word of God. He and Shell are getting together with another couple and making an evening of it. He wouldn’t be comfortable with us at Woody’s or God help him Babylon, but a couple drinks and a show - I mean who doesn’t love Ron White.”

Justin decided not to mention he had no idea who that was. But yeah a night out, getting to meet Em’s brother, more than just giggling at his reactions to the crew at ‘Rocky Horror’ well they’d endured worse for family. Instead he asked, “How’s Em like having family in town?”

“Smiling like a butcher’s dog,” HD said, as Em joined them sitting on the arm of the couch next to HD. “And it makes Miss Lula happy to know they’re looking out for each other.”

Looking over Justin smiled as he watched Brian on the floor with Gus; who was standing while holding onto Brian and making consonant noises. Brian was relaxed and happy he had that open smile on his face he only got when playing with Gus. Debbie was laughing and it wasn’t like they were more than a couple steps away from where she and Lindsay were seated watching the two. Certainly close enough to hear her ribaldrous comments peppering their conversation. And it was just the normal raunchy humor that was spewed out without thought nightly at the diner. The smile on Lindsay’s face looked a bit wooden. But that could have been because, unbeknownst to Debbie, terms like slut were hitting a bit close to home recently.

Justin noticed Brian’s face blank abruptly before his ears even registered that Debbie’s humor had crossed the line from her normal near slut shaming toward Brian’s life choices to what she probably thought was a compliment to Lindsay. Debbie and her zealotry of motherhood had once again had a splash over from her intended target. Brian was a damn good father, it had taken nearly fifteen years for him to realize that and one of the things Justin was looking forward to this time with Gus and the new kid was they could just relax and enjoy them. This time they didn’t have to fight Brian’s insecurities that he would be like his pop or the general neurosis that all new parents go thought as if every mistake was the end of the world.

Lindsay looked mortified and said with her frozen smile, “Look at the time. Mel has court tomorrow.”

“Let me get you some of the leftovers,” and Debbie was up and still oblivious to the fact that even David looked taken back at her previous comment.

+

Mel wasn’t real happy that with the one look she and Lindsay had traded she got elected to take whatever crap Deb was sending home with them. This was probably a bad time to do this but the look Lindsay had given her was one that said, ‘we’re leaving; now’ and while the two of them may be having problems it was what Mel wanted to do any way. She’d seen Justin’s face. He’d risen slowly and walked with precise steps in Debbie’s wake. Mel hoped that she wasn’t going to witness a homicide when she followed him and Debbie out to the kitchen.

“What in the name of God is wrong with you?” Justin asked her low and angry.

Debbie looked confused and said, “What are you talking about?”

“Why would you do that? What did he do to you? The minute you spot any sort of vulnerability you have to expose it, show him he can be hurt; no wonder he keeps his walls so high around you. Did you do this to him when he was Hunter’s age?” Justin asked, shaking his head in disbelief. “He was happy. Wide open and incandescently happy, he always is when it’s Gus; Gus never uses it against him. But you saw it and had to get in a shot, teach him to keep those defenses up. What are you trying to teach him now? That his kids are weaknesses; that he should distance himself from them? If you really want that to be your end result you should have attacked the kids not Brian. Brian will go to any length to protect the people he loves. After all he loves Michael and has been willing to take your abuse for years to keep him in his life.”

The kid had balls Mel thought. And not that she hadn’t realized it when Debbie had spouted off what was, as always, waived away as a vulgar joke but regardless of Gus’ age that was no way to talk in front of him. It was her house and Debbie was so proud of how accepting and supportive she was of same sex parings but she often acted as if they were all giddy fourteen year olds who thought of nothing but sex. It was insulting regardless of how in the know the president of PFLAG was. And as reluctantly as Mel was in admitting it, Brian really didn’t deserve it. Yeah, he’d jumped into a non-monogamous relationship feet-first with a seventeen year old kid. But Justin was proving that the whole wide-eyed virgin routine was just one more form of white bread camouflage like Lindsay’s prim manners or cool dismissive attitude toward conflict. According to Mason, Justin had a head for strategy and a manipulative streak a mile wide. If he wasn’t planning to study graphic design they both would have recommended him for an internship with the firm. And if that was what Brian wanted in his life as a partner more power to him, honestly she’d seen Brian smile more often and openly since the two of them shacked up than in the six previous years combined.

When Mel saw Lindsay’s reaction to Deb’s words and they had wordlessly split to take care of their own tasks. Lindsay was leaning in to wish Brian a final happy birthday before packing up Gus. She was also going to invite him and Justin to dine with them before they had a session with Lorraine on Thursday. While Mel got to thank Debbie for having them over for the party; she was turning into a WASP herself. But She figured they were kicking off a mass exodus; Emmett’s hand moving to HD’s thigh wasn’t so much a come on as a plea to stay out of it and Michael may have been oblivious to the results of Deb’s little joke but David  and Ted had looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Are you talking about Brian? I love him, I would never say anything-” Debbie stopped.

Maybe noticing that she and Justin weren’t alone and Mel thought she should just make farewells and get the hell out of there. But what the fuck, he was the father of the kid inside her, so she said, “As a ostensibly disinterested third party who is normally willing to rally under the Kinney’s an asshole banner, I have to admit it sounded pretty bad. Brian’s pretty thick-skinned, and Justin tends to be overprotective but Dave looked taken back and that look on Lindsay’s face means if we weren’t guests in your home she would have been gave you a piece of her mind. Of course with Lindz it would be so passive-aggressive you might not have realized it. I just came out to say thank you for having us, we’re leaving.”

Justin was still white lipped but froze over at Mel’s reminder that this wasn’t his home. He said, “Yes, Mrs. Novatny, it was very kind of you to offer your home to host Brian’s birthday dinner. Thank you. But Brian has an early day; we’ll be going as well.” Before he pivoted on his heel like some wehrmacht and went to join the exodus.

“I didn’t mean anything,” Deb said to Mel. “I’ve known Brian for years; he doesn’t take it that way. That kid needs to get the stick out of his ass.”

“Brian’s a good dad,” Mel said, “I realize you didn’t intend to imply he wasn’t. Because getting a glimpse into his childhood during that funeral gave me an all new appreciation for the effort he makes not to be like his parents. I realize you feel very strongly about being a single mother. And believe me I’d have been the first one to say men were superfluous after conception; until I became the mother of one. Maybe if I have a daughter I’ll feel differently but I want to give Gus everything; including a good dad and surprisingly that’s Brian.”

“Thanks, Mel,” Brian said appearing in the doorway. He said. “And thanks, Deb, it was good getting together when we didn’t have a corpse to cluster round. It looks like everyone is heading out you may want to put in an appearance and say goodbye.”

“Brian, I didn’t mean,” she started.

Brian hugged her and said, “I know.”

+

The week was arduous after Brian’s birthday. Time was crawling and yet rushing to the date of Prom. The girls were in a flutter, every conversation drifted to Prom-prep, at school and every day their plans were changing. There was a mass sleep over planned at Sep’s place, due to lack of parents being around, on Friday night, then they would spend all Saturday primping and hitting salons. Justin was firmly declining repeated invitations all week. The boys would meet them there and they were taking one big limo from there to the hotel. Brian and he would meet the group at the venue. Yeah, the thought of Brian in a limo filled with fucking eighteen year olds or younger in Mon and Brit’s case, not funny at all.

Thursday night with the Munchers was interesting. They seemed to be dealing with the whole infidelity thing. Justin had only thought that maybe Brian should attend one of their sessions, but never thought it too loudly in Brian’s presence. Because Brian was part of this thing and his issue wasn’t so much the infidelity as the blatant stupidity. But the girls had stopped teasing Brian about attending Prom when he said he thought an adult with access to bail and lawyers should be there. Given Mel, at least, had seen the photos of Niles’ locker they spent the rest of the dinner assuring them Brian was just being over cautious and it was unlikely that such nonsense would carry over in a public venue.

+

Prom was on Saturday and the morning started with one of those dreams you knew was a dream when it was happening but you just couldn’t wake up. So Brian relived the crawling, speeding minutes where the ambulance took too long to arrive and Justin seemed to be bleeding in high speed from his head wound. As he waited for his heartrate to drop somewhere near human norm; Brian lay watching Justin sleep like the dead, a tasteless metaphor but accurate.

He was torn between wanting Justin’s peaceful sleep to eat up as much of this hellish day as possible, and thinking coffee at him with all his might on the somewhat shaky chance he had developed Rage’s mind powers and Justin might sleep walk over to the coffee maker and come back with a perfectly brewed cup of Joe. Speaking of Rage, Mikey was pushing to see Justin’s work. Justin, who had enough on his plate, was kind of pissed about having to throw together something to show him. Brian had let a comment slip regarding the superhero and of course Mikey had wanted to see it. Justin had successfully covered and said he was thinking of producing a webcomic and showed Mikey the work of K. Sandra Fuhr online with ‘Boy meets Boy’. Not gay superheroes but now Mikey had a reason beside porn to surf the net. So Justin had been up late most evenings slapping together a Rage prequel, not wanting to tempt fate redoing the original first version.

Justin, not being required to stick to any story line or political message had given Rage a sidekick. Not Zephyr or JT, neither of who appeared and may never, but Fraulein Righteous Fury, a straight female who strongly resembled Daphne. The idea was - and when Justin was explaining it all Brian refrained from reminding him that he wasn’t really thinking of doing a webcomic, it was just a cover for Michael  – that between the two characters they could flesh out various issues, demonstrating that just because people may be on the same side of an argument that they didn’t have the same motivations or agree on solutions. Fraulein Righteous Fury would work with the system, and if/when he brought Stockwell or other evil politicians in then she would run for office against him or her secret identity would. Fraulein Righteous Fury had a posse of four sexy henchwomen, Senorita Stealth, Drama Diva, Mademoiselle Manipulative and Artiste Activist, who also resembled their real life counterparts.

Actually the prequel was kind of Hunter’s story. As Fraulein RF and the girls were coming home from a night at the clubs they rescued a boy who was being forced into prostitution. Fury and entourage worked with the system to remove him from his home, while Rage wreaked havoc against the evil Dire Mater, shutting down a drug and child trafficking ring. Justin was thinking of actually posting it on KeenSpot with a link to donate to ‘Everybody’s Child’ once it was finished.

Brian was hoping to be there when Daphne found out she was now a superhero.

+

Justin made a simple supper before Prom. His mom’s frittata, with diced ham he’d picked up at whole foods because they never had leftovers around to toss in. He could tell the moment Brian took a bite he realized it was made with whole milk, not skimmed and full fat ricotta cheese. One thing Mom was adamant about was you needed the fat to get it to set properly and be light and fluffy. Besides they both needed comfort food.  

Justin decided to wear this graduation present with his tux, because really a Rolex; not that he didn’t appreciate it. Brian always had believed in celebrating accomplishments, like graduation rather than birthdays or arbitrary anniversaries. Although given the years they’d been together Justin had finally convinced him that sometimes just marking that you made it through another year was worth celebrating. They were both dressed much like the Gala as they headed to the venue, Brian driving Justin’s car.

There were conditions; many conditions with their attending. Brian was obviously on edge, and with good reason. He was in full out battle mode. Normally in this state he’d have employees scurrying around doing his bidding and lawyers and security and anyone else he may need on standby. But God willing there would be no need. However, he was all over the place, from insisting Justin not leave his side, even to go to the bathroom, to actually suggesting Justin consume no fluids that evening to prevent the need to go to the bathroom; Brian was in hypervigilant mode. If Justin wasn’t just as jumpy he’d be to the point of strangling him, as it was he was almost there.

They were standing in a group with Daphne and Mike, Justin wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Thank God for Brian’s advertising superpowers, he was keeping the conversation going and had been most of the evening. Justin, unlike his spotty memories of his first prom had part of his attention on Chris Hobbes all evening. He was there with some girl Justin had never seen before but was watching, not any of the alliance but Daphne’s Andrew, or maybe just Missy Campbell his date. All was not well in happy hetro heaven, but for all Justin could remember he might have been with her the first time. Who the fuck plans attempted murder and decides to bring a date, and do it at public venue?

Brian had valet parked the car so they need not head to the parking garage. September had a room at the hotel that the event was in so there would be no need to be near the parking garage after for any of the group. Niles, Sep and Paul had cars parked there, having brought them down before heading home to get ready, the idea being they would all go to breakfast in the morning. Since none of the others were aware of the dangers Justin was worried that they might go there to neck – Paul and Tracy – or to leave early - Niles.

Niles had been very resistant in coming and Justin got it, he’d felt the same way when he had asked and been turned down by Brian the first time. Rumors at school said Mr. and Mrs. Orr had filed for divorce, so Niles probably wished he could have attended with her if he attended at all. But Tracy’s dad was starting to think Paul was the only guy in their group beside Justin, so Niles had been dragged to dinner Friday at Tracy’s house with September and Daphne to pick up Tracy for the slumber party. Niles did manage to dodge the slumber party so Justin was thinking of pumping him for pointers. Despite Mon and Brit technically being their dates Paul and Mike showing up in tuxes together and being in the alliance had caused a stir. Mike had loudly asked Paul to dance and got punched in the shoulder. Sep had filmed it. She was becoming a real pain in the ass with that digital camcorder.

Mon and Brit were trading off dances with Mike and he wasn’t horrible. Justin and Daphne had danced, the only time all night he’d been out of arms reach of Brian. They may have all fought taking the lessons at the club as kids but it came in handy at times. He remembered Daphne’s description of his and Brian’s dance, years after Prom. By that time they were hitting the Saturday Socials every time Brian came to New York and much of the horror of Prom had been relegated to the past. From how she described it then, it seemed his cotillion training and Brian’s ballroom athletics had combined seamlessly and unrehearsed in any way that stopped the show. Brian always had loved being the center of attention.

Brian stiffened beside him and Justin looked over. He couldn’t see anything out of place but Brian was taut as if waiting for a blow himself. Brian cut his gaze over to him, his eyes haunted and he said, barely above a whisper, “They’re playing our song, Sunshine.”

And the others didn’t get it. That wasn’t code for ‘dance with me’ that was not a statement of fact, because if they had a song it was ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ it was the song they had danced to before, the song he never had a clear memory of and he felt Brian’s hand on his back, he was guided out onto the dance floor. He remembered describing it as a cheesy song when Daphne and Brian were trying to jog his memory. But he glided in Brian’s arms, gazing into his haunted eyes and smiled. How about that, Brian smiled back. They were taking this song back. It was no longer a death knell; it was a corny romantic tune like hundreds of others they had danced to over the years.

+

Fifteen years ago he would have cut off an arm or his remaining ball rather than spend five minutes with a pack of hetro teens. But this wasn’t a date so much as a security details. He had made sure he had everyone’s parents’ numbers loaded into his phone, Justin even made a separate call list for them all. He had a good criminal lawyer and enough money in the safe at home to take care of bail, if needed.  When September made to go to her car to get a spare battery for the camcorder, Brian had insisted one of the hotel staff accompany her, and tipped generously. Sure she was a mouthy breeder who ogled him like he was for sale but he was not facing the fighting Davis brothers if something happened to her.

The evening was winding down. The Hobbes kid had been skulking about, pretty much ignoring his date and Brian was hoping he wasn’t also checked into a room at this place because Brian was hoping to get Justin out of here, even if they were obligated to meet at ‘Ritter’s’ in the morning. The ballroom was much less densely populated as they sat at a deserted table with Daphne. Brian listened to Justin outlining his idea for a webcomic to deal with social issues and using a bastardized version of Hunter’s story to draw attention to their non-profit.

Brian watched the big blond jock, who in a couple years should be a real looker dancing with Frank Payne’s little girl. He’d spoken with Frank last night when he called Brian to see if Justin would be at the slumber party. That was when Brian had confessed that he planned to attend Prom. He’d said it wasn’t actually a fuck you to all the homophobic school bullies but more that he was worried given some of the previous actions some of them might target the kids in the alliance. Frank had said if he could get away with it he would have asked September and gone as her date. Frank apparently had seen the photos of the locker and listened to Tracy’s repeatedly calling it a death threat. Brian had actually promised to call Frank after the kids were all ensconced in September’s suite for the night. That was something Brian would never have thought to offer to do before Gus had started to believe in his own teenaged immortality.  Come to think of it fifteen years ago it would never occur to him to think the big jock was too young; he should have known being a parent was going to ruin even eye candy.

A skinny kid in a rented tux surreptitiously sidled over and sat at the empty table. Unless Brian missed his guess this was the closeted kid from Babylon. From behind them he said over his shoulder like some bad spy movie, “Taylor, remember when you told me to tell you if he started talking about killing someone?”

“What the fuck, Devon? At Prom?,” Daphne said, “Is he going to kill Andrew because Missy is here with him? Hobbes didn’t even ask Missy. He broke up with her.”

Brian drawled, “Let me guess, there’s alcohol involved.”

Devon looked panicked; he’d have to be to risk approaching the openly gay couple at Prom. “You said tell you, even if I thought he wasn’t serious. It’s probably just trash talk-”

“Let’s get all you kids up to your suite,” Brian said cutting in, “Hardly anyone’s still dancing and you can bullshit over room service behind locked doors and he can sober the fuck up.”

They got up and headed to the door. They found Sep, either pretending to film or really filming Brittney giving some award acceptance speech using the hotel lobby as her red carpet backdrop, while Monica played the role of the reporter interviewing her. Tracy and Paul must have spotted them leaving because they followed them out, having snagged Mike away from chatting up the some girl.

“Her names Ginger,” Mike said, “she’s his cousin. How pathetic is that, I had two prom dates and he had to have his mom set him up with a cousin.”

“Pennsylvania isn’t one of those states,” Justin said, jokingly but he was scanning the lobby.

“You always say that,” Tracy said, “what does it mean?”

Justin answered absently, “There are nineteen states in the US that you can legally marry your first cousin.”

“Jesus,” Sep said, “and yet Huxley can’t legally marry Emmett, how fucked up is that.”

“Where is Hobbes?” Justin finally voiced.

Looking around the lobby himself, Brian wondered, where exactly was Hobbes if his date was making time with Mike? Brian said, “Where’s Niles?”

“He said he was leaving and he’d try to meet us in the morning but he was all Prom-ed out,” Tracy said.

“The parking garage,” Brian said. And maybe he was Rage or at least had some freakish mind control powers because those three words should not have had them all heading that way. Mike and Paul quickly outpaced the girls in their heels and long dresses. But Brian was going to chalk it up to them being student athletes to them smoking him and Justin. They hit the heavy metal doors only a few yards ahead of Justin and him with Daphne and the girls and surprisingly that Devon kid bringing up the rear a ways back

“Holy fuck, not again,” Brian cursed.

Niles was down. There was a bat still rolling along the floor. That Mike kid must have launched into Hobbes without slowing down, because the window of a car behind the tableau was shattered inward. Paul was kneeling by Niles head, hesitantly checking his pulse.

“Call an ambulance,” Paul barked.

Mike growled, “Call a coroner cause I’m killing him.”

Brian froze because it was all so like before, down to Daphne’s tiny but surprisingly strong hand gripping his bicep painfully and making a broken sob. He pulled her under his arm and let her cry and heard surprisingly not Justin but Paul start issuing orders.

“Go get security, Mon, Brit no one goes anywhere alone. Sep put that damn camera to use. Brian call the 911. Tracy help me keep his neck from moving, Niles is alive but he’s got a bad head injury,” Paul said. 

Justin and Daphne went over to Mike who was vibrating with anger and had actually from the painful sounds Hobbes was making nearly fulfilled his promise to kills him. There was blood seeping from Hobbes skull and it looked like that was what Mike used to shatter the window on the Volvo behind them. Hobbes was doubled over on the ground gasping for air and addition to the bloody head seemed to be covering his groin so Brian was thinking he kind of liked this Mike kid.

The think that was different was this time when Brian called 911 he knew the address and exact location.  Hotel security showed up and started to reroute people from the area and brought a doctor who was at a wedding in a different ballroom.

Once the paramedics showed and they found out what hospital they were taking Niles to, and Fraulein Righteous Fury had given the Pittsburgh Police a piece of her mind they all headed toward their cars to go to the hospital. Before they headed out, after Justin lost what was left of the frittata in the men’s room Brian had some calls to make.

“Craig. It’s Brian. Justin is fine, unhurt and healthy. I didn’t want you and Jennifer worrying if you saw it on the news because sometimes they withhold names. It wasn’t Justin. But there was an assault at the Prom. That Hobbes kid who got suspended with Justin in December tried to kill the Anderson boy. They’re both being rushed to Montefiore. We’re heading over there. Can you reassure Troy and Rhonda that Daphne is fine, just really pissed off?” Brian wrapped up the call wondering if Craig had shown as much concern the first time when it was his son fighting for his life. He hadn’t so much as lingered around his room waiting for him to wake up. He couldn’t imagine anything keeping him from Gus if he were hurt.

“Frank? Brian Kinney, Tracy is fine, unharmed in any way. Niles Anderson was assaulted. He’s in pretty bad shape. The kids are heading to Montefiore to wait for news. I don’t know his parents, but I think they live in your community right? I just can’t imagine this is the news you want to get… yeah, thanks. I really appreciate that, I’m sure the cops are heading there but if it was my kid.”

Using the speaker option in the car he called Bob Horvath who told him he’d call Brittney’s parents. As they pulled into the parking garage near Montefiore he made one last call that he really didn’t want to make, especially since September’s dad was out of town again.

“Em; no, Prom is not wonderful, let me talk to Davis. September’s fine. Well put me on speaker then,” Brian realized that maybe not today but eventually he was going to have to hash out with HD what had happened the first time. So he told the story in the bare bones and told them that he and Justin were going to sit vigil with them. Emmett signed off for them both and said he’d bring round breakfast in the morning.

Justin was quiet; too quiet, white lipped and looking like he was blaming himself. If not for the whole damn time thing for forming the group, for coming to Prom, for every damn decision he’d made since it all started. Brian expected him to voice some regret as they were stepping up to the entrance to the hospital but instead he asked, “Should I call Lena?”

 


	73. And he's good for relieving my... ...tension

Lena was one number Brian didn’t have but it turned out Justin did. From what Brian heard of the call, Lena had been waiting wherever Niles had been leaving to go to. She, of course, wanted to rush right to him. Justin explained it could be hours or days before they knew anything and there were police taking names and statements. Justin had previously mentioned that those two hadn’t managed to keep their affair secret the first time through and Brian could see why. So the, apparently, eighteen year old high school senior was the one helping the married teacher prepare reasons she was going to give to the police or her husband if they wanted to know why she was coming to the hospital on prom night.

When they met up with the kids they were loitering near the ground floor chapel because Niles had been taken up to be prepared for surgery and the hospital staff didn’t want them milling around the surgical waiting room as it was for family only. The girls were crying, Tracy literally hanging on Paul who greeted them with, “the police took Mike.”

“What the fuck?” Justin said.

“Where?” Brian asked.

After getting the precinct information Brian asked if anyone had called Mike’s parents. Justin stayed and Brian headed home to get bail, calling the defense attorney on his way. The only thing more fun than walking into a police precinct to post bail for an eighteen year old at two thirty in the morning on prom night was meeting the eighteen year old’s father there. Frankly Brian was already dealing with more parents of eighteen year old that he was fucking than he wanted to, so having both Paul and Mike’s fathers wanting to know his intentions was less than amusing.

“I intend to post his bail and I have an attorney on his way. If you’ve already taken care of that I’ll be happy to go back to the hospital to check on the kid whose life your son saved tonight,” Brian said. “However, if you can’t get your hands on twenty thousand dollars cash until Monday morning, let’s get the kid out of the cage and settle up later.”

Stavros Miklos suddenly seemed to realize his son’s virtue was safer if the queer posted bail than leaving his baby boy in hoosegow until the banks opened.  It occurred to Brian that Mike’s name was Mike Miklos and he figured all parents were innately cruel. He then wondered if Mel was going to saddle the new kid with Abraham or something much worse. Brian was putting his foot down; there would be no Marc Marcus. Paul’s dad hadn’t been called by his kid, but by Mike’s dad when he got the call from the station. So Brian sent Mr. Miller to Montefiore while he waited with Stavros at the night court for the arraignment.

James Barron was a criminal attorney Brian had put on retainer. Mel had recommended him when Brian had asked, “suppose I lose my shit and try and kill Justin’s principal. Who should I have ready to come to court?” Jim was a portly thirtysomething breeder with thinning sandy hair and the florid complexion of a pasty Irish drinker. But according to Mel he was connected and vicious, which was what you wanted in a criminal defense attorney. And hiring him for Mike meant he wouldn’t be available to be hired by Hobbs for his son.

Brian gave Jim a brief overview of what happened while Mike’s dad listened. He said, that while perhaps Paul was the only one who saw the impact that had sent Hobbs head into the Volvo, there were nine people who could testify Mike had only seconds from going through the door until they all were there, and he had only been trying to keep Hobbes from killing the victim. Jim never even spoke to Mike, plead not guilty, recommended low bail as he was a model citizen yadda da, yadda da. They were one of the first cases and bail was only five thousand dollars.

Stavros gave Jim his card and requested he be billed and retained him in regard to Mike’s case. Stavros was also being profusely and embarrassingly grateful to Brian, so Brian successfully diverted the worried parent’s attention to his kid by asking Mike, “did they have you looked at before they hauled you in? You hit nearly as hard as he did when you tackled him?”

+

The seating area around the sixth floor elevator was technically not ICU, nor was it the special family only waiting room. So of course it was teaming with sleeping girls in formal wear and slowly filling with concerned parents. Taylor seemed to know the hospital layout pretty well at least as far as where the OR and recovery were. He and Daphne were on the other side of the elevators. Paul was glad they moved because they both used too many medical terms and knew too much about all that could go wrong with head injuries.

Paul didn’t know what surprised him more; Justin appearing to have some knowledge of neurology or Frank Payne stepping off the elevator with his dad. Tracy had cried herself to sleep and had pinned him to a really uncomfortable molded plastic chair. And he probably should have called his dad but well he had other things on his mind. Listening to Daphne and Justin talk brain injuries, aphasia and lose of motor control would have made more sense if Daphne wasn’t the only premed among them. For an artist and a guy who seemed to devote ninety percent of his brain activity to sex with the hot older guy he lived with, Justin knew what questions to ask even if no one was telling them anything.

Mrs. Orr had shown up, explaining that since their faculty adviser was unavailable she wanted to be here for them. If she hadn’t been sobbing the whole time it would have been much more believable. Paul may be a jock but he wasn’t stupid, suddenly Niles cutting out early and paying no attention to the girls when he claimed to be straight made a lot more sense. But Paul wasn’t planning to let on, well if Mike didn’t get sent to the big house, they could discuss it. In the car, when no parents or other alliance members were around.

“Mr. Payne, Dad,” Paul said in greeting, looking up at them. It wasn’t like he could stand Tracy was curled awkwardly with her feet tucked up under her butt, she sat/laid in the chair next to him and her boobs, almost spilling out of her strapless gown, were crushed into his stomach as she draped the upper half of her body across his lap and her head and hair hung down on the chair on his other side.

His dad looked more uncomfortable at the sight than Mr. Payne. Mr. Payne pulled a chair over in front of them and brushed his daughter’s hair back off her face and asked, “What happened.”

“It was prom. We were all dancing, hanging out. Everyone but Justin and Brian ate at the club first and then we took the limo in, they joined us here. It was just, I d’know nice? Mike and I brought Mon and Brit because they’re juniors and couldn’t come without dates. Hell even Niles danced with Daphne and Monica. It was getting late, Trace and I were on the dance floor but most people were done, either heading to house parties or up to rooms. We saw Justin and Daphne rounding up our group, I think I heard Brian say he wanted everyone locked in the room until morning - they were planning to go home and come meet us at ‘Ritter’s’ in the morning. But once we got everyone together we noticed Niles was missing, I mean I didn’t even think he would stay, he always leaves early. But either Justin or Brian said ‘the parking garage’ and I don’t know, it was like it was code or something, you would think we rehearsed it because suddenly everyone was bolting for the garage. Mike and I were the fastest. Mike hit the door ahead of me and I was right behind him, like less than a step. Chris still had the bat in his hand, Niles was on the ground and then Mike didn’t even slow down, hell he was airborne, connected with Chris in the chest and they both slammed into this car. Glass was breaking and everywhere and the bat was making this clacking noise as it bounced and then rolled. There was blood. Lots of blood, it was just pooling around his head, Niles isn’t that big, I mean-“

“It’s okay, that’s enough,” and his father clamped a hand on his shoulder from two seats over, leaning in over Tracy’s feet.

“They won’t tell us anything, and Daphne and Justin were talking brain damage, all I was thinking was not to move his neck but if there’s-” Paul broke off.

“Paul, it’s okay, you did what you could. He’s with professionals now,” his dad said.

Paul, after holding it together now felt his eyes burn and said with a sob, “I’m sorry I didn’t call, I just wasn’t thinking.”

“I think you were thinking, too much. I know you can’t just let this go, but try not to question your actions or be too hard on yourself. This wasn’t expected by anyone,” Mr. Miller said.

“Bullshit,” hissed a low ragged voice from off in the corner away from the elevators. Paul knew Devon only as one of Hobbs’ hangers on. He was on the football team but never played, sat with the jocks at lunch but didn’t hit the popular kids’ parties often. If he hadn’t been at Justin’s party Paul would have recognized him but probably not been able to pull the name.

“And you are?” Mr. Payne said. Tracy always told Paul that ‘daddy doesn’t try to be scary’ but those words were ripe with menace.

Devon said, “up until a couple hours ago, I was Chris Hobbs’ friend. Or I thought I was. Justin was right – he told me Chris was losing it. I thought he was being dramatic. But Justin said he was dangerous and told me to let him know, even if I thought Chris was just joking around to let him know if he started to talk about killing someone.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened, more parents were showing up, Mrs. Chander’s was recognizable as well as Mon’s dad since he’d seen him earlier when they picked her up, but the woman he came off the elevator with wasn’t Mrs. Horvath. Paul wondered if anyone thought to call Devon’s parents because he was looking pretty shaky right now. Frank Payne asked, “Did you, let him know? And did he talk about killing this boy?”

“He didn’t say I plan to kill Niles Anderson, with a baseball bat in the garage, it wasn’t like we were playing Clue,” Devon said. “Chris was drinking. Had this cheesy flask, I don’t know what was in it, he wasn’t sharing. Any way he started his normal rant about fags and how they were ruining everything, they ruined the school and now they were ruining the prom. I figure he meant all of you, Miller, Miklos, Anderson and Taylor. He was right by you when Mike asked you to dance.”

Paul snorted and said, “So he saw me turn him down, was he pissed neither of us asked him to dance? Jesus, he took his cousin to Prom. How does that get him any more hetero –cred then me? I was dancing with the five prettiest girls there.”

“If he was making sense he wouldn’t have tried to kill Niles,” Devon said. “It was all wrapped up in Andrew taking Missy, and Niles inviting her to Justin’s birthday and fags not respecting the natural order of things – he’s not real coherent when he hasn’t been drinking. Maybe Taylor is right and he is deeply closeted or has been warped by an abusive relationship with Mr. Dixon.”

“Who’s Mr. Dixon?” Frank Payne asked.

“He’s this teacher, he really hates fags. He kind of looks the other way if you rough them up. There have been a lot of rumors that something is going on with him and Hobbs, but Taylor says it’s just trash talk from someone they’ve ganged up on and you know a general reaction to how inappropriate it is the way Dixson seems to latch on to good looking blond jocks,” Devon said. “I think that was why we were all surprised that Hobbs got suspended, because normally Dixson would have been helping him get away with beating up Taylor.”

“What the hell is going on in this school?” Frank Payne asked.

“There’s Drusilla and David,” Paul’s father said and they all looked as an older version of Niles brought a weeping woman down the corridor toward the crowded seating area around the elevators.

Mrs. Orr made to stand and Paul watched Justin clamp a hand on her shoulder and push down to keep her seated and hiss something in her ear. Daphne popped up and approached the Andersons. After a moment Justin left Mrs. Orr sitting and slipped over. Needless to say Mr. Anderson looked angry but Mrs. Anderson looked like she was about to lose it and just sink into a puddle on the floor and wail.

+

Daphne had spoken with the Anderson’s earlier when they arrived. Rattling off the name of the surgeon, and details on what the paramedics had done and said. She gave them the name of the charge nurse for the floor and sent Brittney to go tell her Nile’s parents was there. She wasn’t quiet as polished as she would be in fifteen years when she was working but this was Daph in calm, compassionate, doctor mode.

While they had waited for the nurse, Daphne told Mr. Anderson about giving statements to the police and how the boy who did this was being treated for a severe concussion and broken collar bone. Now, after they had returned after having gone off with the nurse Justin was hoping she’d built enough capital with them to get some pay back and that they would give them some kind of update.

After asking some medical related questions in regard to what they told her about Niles, Daphne said that they would all be available to provide evidence if in addition to a criminal case they wanted to pursue a civil case against both Hobbs and the school.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Mrs. Anderson said, “we can handle this privately, there’s no need to drag Niles name into the papers.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Anderson,” Justin said, “You don’t want to make any decisions right now. You’re distraught. We’re all worried about Niles. I realize that your motivation is to protect his name and keep this out of the papers, but frankly the people responsible for this are counting on that. St. James Academy owes you, and your son. Before you waive the option of a lawsuit, remember we don’t know what Niles’ needs during his recovery will be. Mr. Hunt has repeatedly been advised of the poisonous atmosphere and has not made any investigation that we’re aware of in regard to the threats painted on Niles’ locker. Niles did all the right things. He joined our group specifically as a straight male who saw the dangers of to all students that the administrations tolerance of abuse toward any student who was targeted as gay.”

“My son is not gay,” Mr. Anderson said, it was both a question and a statement and somehow a request for reassurance.

Justin met his eyes and said, “I know he isn’t. He’s not a jock either. He’s very smart and very driven, you don’t get early acceptance to Georgetown if you’re not both. However, due to being smarter than his peers and not focused on their petty one-upmanship or participating in any of the school sports teams, he was perceived to be gay. After all if he’s not like them there must be something wrong with him. For the past couple years, through most of high school, once the other students started their obnoxious courtship rituals Niles, myself and a few others who for one reason or another don’t fit in with the herd became targets. Chris Hobbs, the boy who tried to kill your son, didn’t just up and decide tonight to do that. He has targeted Niles on an almost daily basis. Chris starts his day by making rounds of the undesirables, the young men who don’t fit his view of how the world should be, the art fags, the schoolies, the quiet kid in the back of the class. I have AP Calc with Niles and at least three days a week Chris is harassing him before the start of the class. Often right in front of Mr. Dixon the teacher. Mr. Hunt is aware of this; I told him myself when Chris and I were suspended before winter break. Your son is not gay. Do not let the fear that people may think he is keep you from pursuing this matter. Not only should Chris Hobbs be prosecuted for attempted murder if you don’t file a civil suit against St. James Academy I will.  They should be up on criminal negligence charges. And keep in mind Niles is eighteen; he should weigh in on the decision. If I woke up after surgery and found my assault had been swept under the rug to avoid a scandal, well… just trust me you don’t want to go there."

Brittney’s dad showed up, and apparently her parents were in the middle of or had just finished a divorce because they were hissing and spitting at each other like wet cats. Mr. Horvath, who had arrived with Mrs. Poppins made himself scarce and went to sit by where Monica and Sep were sleeping in chairs. Tracy was sleeping on many chairs and Paul. Who was pinned under her and looked to be spinning some sort of explanation for Frank Payne’s little girls boobs spilling all over him. Mrs. Chanders had come in but Mr. Chanders must be planning to take the day shift. They were all, the kids, refusing to leave until some doctor would tell them Niles wasn’t going to die. Since none of the staff would tell them anything due to HIPPA they might all be there for the next two weeks.

The elevator door dinged and opened and it was HD and Emmett. HD was carrying a large picnic basket and a case of bottled water and Em swept in hugging indiscriminately, including Mrs. Anderson. “I love you,” Daphne said as he engulfed her tiny form much to her mother’s shock. The water was cold; the basket was packed with sandwiches, bags of chips and pretzels, wet wipes, gum, including nicotine gum and a twelve pack of tooth brushes and a tube of Crest. Em was a wonder. Justin had draped his jacket over the back of a chair; Brian would kill him for how he was manhandling his tux, and took off his tie and removed his cufflinks and the top two studs. His sleeves were rolled up and the tie, studs and cufflinks were in a pile on one of the end tables near Daphne’s clutch.

They had spent another quarter hour, updating different parents regarding what had happened when Mrs. Chanders, after getting Daphne’s story, went to grill Paul. Tracy and Sep both woke up for food, but apparently Mon could sleep through anything. The next time the elevator dinged Justin was greeted by the sight of his mom coming off it. His dad had stayed home with Molly but apparently she needed to see him in one piece. He was letting Daphne tell the tale, for once he wasn’t hungry; he had a drained tired feeling but didn’t think he could sleep, or not sleep without a screaming nightmare. He desperately wanted Brian.

“Where is Brian?” His mother asked and Justin blinked stupidly at her because for one brief moment he wondered if she had just read his mind.

Mr. Miller said, “He was going to the arraignment with Stavros Miklos to bail out his son. What exactly does Brian do that he happened to have twenty thousand dollars cash on him?”

At his mother’s sharp gasp, Justin said, “we live nearby. He went home and got it out of the safe on the way to the precinct so Mike wouldn’t have to remain in holding until Monday. Brian owns Kinnetik, it’s an advertising firm. With all the stuff that’s been happening, the locker, the death threat; he had bail on hand in case I was the one arrested for defending myself or others.”

“What death threat?” Monica’s dad asked and there was what should have been a strange man standing with him, but it was Carl Horvath with his badge visible on his belt.

 And really it never had connected, it wasn’t an unusual name but in all the time Carl and Debbie were together he had never met much of Carl’s family. So as he stood next to Bob Horvath Justin just blinked, yeah okay, didn’t see that coming. Justin said, “when the arson incident occurred and destroyed Niles property a threat was spray painted on the locker, it said ‘die fag’.”

“Why was none of this reported?” Carl asked.

Justin stood and out of the corner of his eye he saw his mom make an abortive attempt to reach out and stop him. He must have looked ready to do something stupid. He was really too angry to speak. So that’s where Daphne came in because she was never too angry to speak and jumped in front of him and started bobbing her head and pointing her finger and said, “Why wasn’t it reported? We reported it; we took pictures it was all covered up. Maybe our school administrator takes a page from Police Chief Stockwell’s book and figures no one give a fuck about fags? Why don’t you tell me why Margarita Lopez’s killer is still at large? Did you even investigate Jefferson Proctor’s murder, he was gay and black. You have a lot of nerve-” Mrs. Chanders corralled Daphne away from Carl, she’d jumped up at the word fuck but it had taken time to get in front of the tiny dynamo.

“I’ll have my attorney drop off copies of the pictures that Mr. Hunt, the school principal, ordered destroyed. Be aware if there is another cover up I have additional copies and I will take this to internal affairs and to major news outlets,” Justin said. “I’m in advertising I know how to get the word out you may want to mention that to your boss in relation to his political aspirations,” Justin said, finally finding his voice as the elevator dinged yet again.

Carl took him in with a practiced glance. And Carl had been good, even hamstringed by a corrupt administration. Justin figured he still looked like some skinny faggot, but his tux was not rented it was perfectly tailored even if all he had on were the trousers, shirt and vest - and Rolex. Brian could be such a dork but he had said when he put it on Justin’s wrist that if a good suit was armor, then the right accessories were weapons. And Justin had called him a label queen and remembered giving Michael the advice to hold out for a Rolex. He was glad he hadn’t said that this time through because he’d never hear the end of it if he had.

“And you are?” Carl asked.

“He is Justin Fucking Taylor,” Brian said stepping off the elevator with Mike and his dad, looking like a monochromatic gay James Bond, “the kind of fag who wields a mean lawyer.”

“Actually,” Mike drawled, “he rarely uses his middle name.”

“You think this is funny?” Carl asked, finding a target for his exasperation.

“Funny? That my son was hauled in and arrested or that the boy who started all this was not,” Mike’s dad said. “You and I must have vastly different definitions of humor.”

All the dads went off with Carl to discuss matters unrelated to Niles’ current condition.  Tracy, who had woken for Em’s sandwiches, took Mrs. Anderson with her to the family waiting room, with the assurance that they would have a tea station there.

+

Jennifer had seen Justin dressed up before but he really looked quite dashing, even without wearing his tuxedo jacket and with his sleeves rolled up. He was wearing no cummerbund so must have on suspenders underneath the vivid blue vest. It suited him, quite literally. This was no off the rack rental, the pants accommodated his derrière without being loose in the thighs or waist, no easy feat. Despite the gravity of the situation she was hoping he’d taken pictures. She had quite looked forward to his prom.

She’d been alarmed when Paul Miller had commented on Brian having so much cash. Her first thoughts were he could be some sort of drug dealer or involved with something illegal. While Justin’s explanation sounded plausible, such an occupation would explain where someone as young as Brian acquired the capital to start his own business when he obviously didn’t come from money.

She was tempted to go help the Payne girl with Drusilla Anderson. She didn’t really know Drusilla, just in passing from seeing her around the club but she must be a wreck given the circumstances. When Craig woke her to tell her the Anderson boy had been attacked at the prom she’d been distraught and worried for Justin. She heard a very tall young man who seemed vaguely familiar urging one of the girls to come stay at his place while her father was out of town, and threatening to call Aunt Maureen when she declined.

There was another man who she thought she had met at the loft the one time she was there urging sandwiches on everyone. She noticed Brian had a word with him and money changed hands and two of the girls in gowns went off with that man. Brian took the seat Daphne had vacated and asked, “Any word?”

“From what Niles’ parents said they’ve relieved the pressure but he’s in a medically induced coma while they wait for the swelling to go down,” Justin said, taking Brian’s hand.

“That’s,” and Jennifer was surprised to hear how husky Brian’s voice sounded. He hadn’t stuck her as an empathic man yet sounded broken up as he continued, “that’s going to take some time.”

“I think we’re here more for us than for him. Processing, I guess; or just being together instead of banging our heads against the wall alone. I thought the parents would start pulling people home, but maybe they’re as thrown by all this as we are,” Justin said.

Brian rubbed his free hand over his face, Jennifer could see a faint sign of stubble starting to show and he looked exhausted, he said, “Has to be the worst call a parent can get. I think Frank when over to their house; told them in person.”

“Yeah, I think he drove them so they wouldn’t wreck or anything. How was it at the station?” Justin said.

“Barron got him out with low bail, said it should be open in shut. I can’t believe their charging him. He was acting to save a life and any excessive force should come off as a misjudgment and not vengeance,” Brian said. “And on a related note who the fuck names their kid Mike Miklos; if Mel tries to name the new kid Marcus, we’re staging an intervention.”

“I like the name Marcus,” Daphne said coming to sit next to Jennifer. “If I ever have a kid I’m naming him Marcus.”

Justin looked at her and Jennifer thought he really needed to sleep because that was the same blank, incomprehensive look he gave her when she asked where Brian was. He opened his mouth then closed it. Finally it was Brian who said, “Mel’s last name is Marcus, if she names the kid that he’ll be Marcus Marcus.”

Jennifer smiled; it was good that they could find some form of humor in this horrible night. After thinking it over, Daphne, said, “Wouldn’t it be Marcus Kinney?”

“Why Miss. Chanders, I thought you were a feminist,” Brian drawled. “Why should a baby she gestates and squeezes out have my name instead of hers?”

Daphne seemed both very at ease with Brian as if she’d battled wits with him before and to enjoy his verbal sparring. They traded barbs until the girls came back with the young man Brian had given money to, carrying cartons of coffee from ‘Dunkin Donuts’ as well as flat boxes of pastries. The man took the top box and one of the cartons of coffee over to the nurses’ station and the girls were taking orders for cream or sugar. Justin went over and she realized he was making a cup for Brian by the obscene amount of sugar he put in it.

He brought her a cup as well and one of the boxes over with a full cup of black coffee for himself. After reseating himself, Justin said to Brian, “Mike’s a nickname, short for Miklos. He never uses his first name.”

“I know,” Brian said, “I heard it at the arraignment. I think he’s planning to have it changed, I know I would.”

“What is it?” Jennifer said and regretted it because she hadn’t wanted to seem like she was eavesdropping.

Brian and Justin exchange a look, Brian rolling his lips in as if trying not to smile and Justin said, “Hieronymus.”

“Parents can be fucking cruel,” Brian said, and Jennifer looked around to see if Mr. Miklos were nearby to hear it.

He hadn’t come back from the conference that the fathers seemed to have formed with the police officer. She hadn’t connected that Justin was friends with the Anderson boy, well she’d seen him and Drusilla at the school board meeting and he’d been at that fundraiser. It was an interesting cross section of Justin’s class mates. The Poppins and Horvath girls were unknowns, not members of the club and being they weren’t in Justin’s class Jennifer wasn’t even sure they had gone through the elementary program at St. James as Daphne and Justin had.

David and Drusilla Anderson, like Frank and Lisa Payne, moved in a circle a bit higher than Craig and her, although Craig had been not so subtly angling for admittance into it. Craig didn’t really get that there were somethings you just had to be born to. It was one of the reasons he bowed to her expertise in the kids’ education. She’d explained that it didn’t matter how much money you made, it was the ties you built growing up. So while Craig had balked at the tuitions and all the additional costs he’d acquiesced. Because Craig had gone to a public school and worked hard to start his own business, he lacked certain networking abilities and certain people would always see him as an outsider. He had put up a fight when she’d started grooming Justin’s etiquette and signed him up for dance and deportment lessons as a child at the club. Craig pulled for little league and team sports while she pointed out that he would need a different set of skills and that crew or lacrosse were a better bet for him. Justin, of course, proved them both wrong in his disdain for athletics. Craig still maintained her coddling had somehow impacted his sexuality.

She watched as Justin checked his watch and blinked in surprise. Looking again she confirmed her first glance. That was a very expensive watch and not one her son had owned when he lived at home. It occurred to her she had no idea how that contract he’d negotiated for his lithographs had gone or if anyone were trying to rein him in if he were frivolously spending money. Molly had told her he had a car and that it was the same as Emily’s mom drove; which would make it a BMW Sport Wagon. Surely he was saving some of his money. The cost of that car could have financed a year’s tuition and now he was wearing a flashy watch and of course since he no longer lived at home he’d tell her it was his business and take offence.

“What time is it?” she found herself asking.

Justin sighed and said, “About a quarter to six.”

“I don’t think we’re making brunch today,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Gram knows it’s Prom she isn’t expecting us,” Justin said.

“Sunshine this is going to be on the news, you need to call her and let her know before she has a chance to worry,” Brian said. He then added, “But not at six on a Sunday.”

“I’ll call her,” Jennifer said. “I should call your father as well he’s bound to be worried.”

Both Brian and Justin shot her identical skeptical looks.  She felt herself get angry and said, perhaps sharper than she should, “Justin, he’s your father. He doesn’t always know the right thing to do, or say, but he always loves you.”

+

While Justin was making nice to Jennifer over his supposed maligning of poor little Craig’s reputation, Emmett picked that moment to sashay over to them and announce he and HD were taking September back to their place and making her get a couple hours sleep in a bed and not in one of the torturous vintage chairs of hard molded plastic.

Jennifer seemed like she wanted to ask where Brian got off giving out teenaged girls to random queens but her country club manners were giving her pause. Justin’s little fag hag had no trouble reading such a look and wasn’t as hung up on manners as Mother Taylor because she said, “they’re my family, stop looking at him like that.”

Justin said, “Go get some sleep, Sep. You’re bitchier than usual,” but he stood and hugged her hard.

She sobbed in his arms and Brian was surprised any of them had any tears left when he heard her harshly said, “I just don’t get it. I normally get people, can figure out why they do what they do; even if they are selfish assholes, but what the hell did he think would happen? How was this going to make his twisted little world better? Did he really think mommy and daddy were going to pat him on the head and say good boy for killing someone?”

Justin hugged her tight and Brian was struck with how good they looked together, the perfect blond on blonde hetero couple. In another world with her attitude and Justin’s brains they would have been the couple everyone wanted to be in high school. He vaguely wondered if at times like this Jennifer saw all the dreams of Ivy League luncheons. A society wedding and blue eyed grandbabies so close she could touch them, only to be swept away by the bitter old fag who seduced her baby. But this wasn’t the Jennifer who had eventually become family, this was Mother Taylor and maybe she hadn’t yet given up on the dream. This woman may still have hopes that her boy would come to his senses or that this was just a phase Justin was going through, God knew that’s how Lindsay’s parents treated it.

Justin released September to HD and Em and the others said their goodbyes to her before she left on the elevator. Daphne had gone from giving September a goodbye hug to hugging Justin, or just holding on to him. They murmured quietly, from what Brian could hear it sounded like they were setting up some sort of rotating shifts and taking about what to do about school on Tuesday, Monday being the holiday.  There wasn’t much school left, Thursday was the traditional senior skip day, and the following Tuesday was the annual school picnic at ‘Kennywood Park’. Graduation was on June 9th, Sep and Tracy were having a party the next day, the only one of the several parties Justin had on his list of ‘must put in an appearance at’ that Brian was required to attend.

He couldn’t tell from what he was overhearing if they were both dreading going to school or looking forward to a fight. Brian mentally noted to restock the bail reserve, or maybe double it since he would probably end up posting bail for Daphne as well. When Mrs. Chanders came to try and get Daphne to come home, Justin went over to Lena to quietly converse. Brian was pretty sure Lena wasn’t going anywhere but if anyone could talk her around it was Justin.

“Who is that woman?” Jennifer asked.

Brian said, “One of the teachers. There will probably be more. This,” and he stopped to consider how best to put it that wouldn’t set off warning bells because the Jen he remembered was where Justin got his smarts from, and he didn’t want to out the affair, “this powder keg has been ready to blow for quite some time, Justin said you were at the board meeting. Just because the administration has kept a lock down on it doesn’t mean the rest of the faculty haven’t notice or agree with what’s been done.”

+

Paul tucked Tracy under his arm as she relayed what she’d found out from Niles’ mom. Apparently Mrs. and Mr. Anderson were at odds on how to handle things, or rather Mr. Anderson was pretty much concerned with dealing with Niles’ physical problem and not really facing that something had to be done about what caused his injury. Niles parents weren’t close with the Hobbs but Niles’ dad and Chris’ dad had gone to school together and the whole idea that Chris had attacked Niles seemed to be incomprehensible to him. Paul was right there with him because he had seen Chris standing over Niles while holding the bat he’d used to bash his head in and he still was having trouble believing it had happened.

Tracy’s dad was being much less lethal than he’d anticipated, given there was no way Paul was passing for gay with Tracy all over him. Sure Taylor may have them hugging him and sitting in his lap all the time but there was a difference that was pretty obvious at least where Tracy was concerned. He was kind of hoping if he could get Mr. Payne used to the idea that he’d be able to pick her up at her house and just hang with her without a crowd.

The dads came back with the cop. Mike had been in conference with September before she left and was now catching up with Brittney. Monica was still dead to the world and he wondered how her dad planned to move her. Since he hadn’t gotten any sleep he was glad his own dad had ridden in with Mike’s dad because there was no way he was awake enough to drive. Tracy’s dad was staying with the Anderson’s as he drove them in so his dad told Mr. Payne that they would drive her home.

Justin was talking to Mrs. Orr in a low voice and Paul got the impression he was trying to get her to leave and come back later, perhaps when Niles’ parents weren’t there. Tracy didn’t seem to think there was anything unusual about Mrs. Orr being there and she was another one he’d have to get alone to see if she’d known about this and not said anything.

Somehow Mr. Horvath had wakened Monica and as they were all getting into the elevator Paul heard her arrange for her to call her when she got home so they could three way with Hunter and update him on everything. No one so much as looked at them and Paul wondered if he was the only one who thought those two were just a little too close to the ex-prostitute.

+

After scooping up his studs, cufflinks and tie, Justin had handed them to Brian. If he was wandering around with over ten grand he could keep track of them as well. This whole clusterfuck was hitting him hard and if it was hitting him then Brian was probably a mess. He wasn’t showing it though. He looked tired but still impeccable. They were both going to be waking with nightmares he just knew it.

After leaving the elevator they split up in the lobby, Brian insisting they walk his mom to her car. Yeah, they were all going to find parking garages a trigger for quite some time. Brian had never liked the damn things after the first Prom, Justin had been fortunate to not remember. He had always felt guilty for not sharing that memory with Brian, for it being a burden he had to carry alone. Well he wasn’t alone now. None of them would ever forget the sight of Niles lying motionless or the bat rolling along the floor over the grit of the shattered glass.

Hobbs better get more than five hundred hours of community service. Justin was tempted to sit back and see if Niles being straight would be enough for it to be treated seriously but he didn’t want to risk it. And really he didn’t want to get blinded by his hate for Hobbs. There was a bigger picture; a deeper issue. Last time, St. James had escaped culpability and not even received any bad publicity.

“Screw Hobbs,” he said, “This is Hunt’s fault and the board for not stopping him. I want to take them down, or make them rue the day they crossed paths with this little art fag.”

“Justin!” his mom said. And it was ridiculous that she was upset by the word fag.

“Jesus Christ Mom! Aren’t you outraged? Given the amount you and dad pay in tuition, you expect shit like this to happen in public schools, where no matter how badly they treat kids they can’t just go elsewhere. But in the spirit of capitalism aren’t they the least bit concerned that they’ll go out of business if no one feels their kids are safe? Fuck Molly is going to go there, this could have happened to her.” Justin said, and yeah waving his arms around wasn’t helping his cause and Brian was smirking at him in that special way that made him feel like a drama princess.

“You have a right to be angry,” Jennifer said. “But don’t make threats, even in jest and I know you have a vocabulary that need not rely on vulgarity. Please use it, more people with listen to you if you do.”

Brian snorted but said nothing and as they approached her car Justin held her door for her. She got in and drove off. Brian slung an arm around him and said, “Come on, Sunshine. Neither of us is going to sleep well but if we just wake each other up for sex every time we have a nightmare maybe we’ll get some sleep.”

Thank God Brian was driving because as he spotted Chris Hobbes’ dad having a smoke near the exit from the garage he would have been tempted to hit him with the car. They made it home without incident. Brian stashed the cash in the save and they both puttered around the loft, hanging up clothes and putting away their studs and cuff links. After avoiding it for as long as possible they both got into bed; blinking burning eyes at each other, reluctant to fall asleep but limp with exhaustion.

“Come here,” Brian said turned him to spoon close and warp his arms around him. “We’re going to have nightmares that’s a given. “It doesn’t sound like Niles is in any worse shape than you were, maybe he’ll skip any lasting damage.”

“It’s too soon to tell,” Justin murmured.

Brian squeezed and it felt like he kissed his hair and said, “Well, I’m not ashamed to admit I’m selfish. I’m just thankful it wasn’t you.”

“It should have been,” Justin said, “Niles wouldn’t have even been there if it wasn’t for me.”

Brian sighed and said, “Niles made choices; don’t take that away from him. No one was destined to be bashed, that’s like absolving Hobbs of responsibility saying fate made him do it. It’s not your fault. It’s not Niles fault or Lena’s. Get some sleep and then you can strategize with Daphne about ramming the blame at the rightful targets.”

“Brian, I love you,” Justin said, trying to keep the sob from his voice.

Brian kissed his neck and murmured, “I love you too.”

 

 


	74. So - come up to the lab,

 

 

 

Jud followed behind Shelley and her friends as they weaved through the small tables of the cabaret. He had settled their tab at the bar out front. Shelley had met him outdoors by an ugly sculpture in a tiny corner park and they opted to just get appetizers at the bar at the cabaret and talk while waiting for her friends. Chris had been comped tickets by a client for a one woman show by a local actress who had moved to New York. Apparently she did comedy and sang and basically talked to the audience. Shelley confessed that she and her friend Tracey had never heard of her but figured why not. He liked that about Shelley, her attitude about many things seemed to be ‘I’ve never tried it, maybe I’ll like it’ which was a nice change from Patty’s weighing ever move to see what her momma and his and the church and Mrs. Dumont down the street might say about it.

Chris and Tracey had come in laughing, just as the doors to the cabaret portion of the venue were opening. They had had dinner at Tracey’s place and got caught up talking with her roommate. If heads turned when they arrived, it was because they were a striking young couple, not because it was a white woman with a black man the way it would have been in Hazlehurst, at least in his mama’s circle. Being a lawyer, Chris was obviously smarter than Jud, but he never made him feel like a damn fool the way Burnett did. He was also the first adult man Jud had met who golfed religiously. He belonged to some club that let him use multiple golf courses and had guest privileges as clubs all over the country if he traveled.

Chris was actually trying to talk Jud into joining. The idea of him having a club like some old English guy in the movies was ridiculous but Shelley said she was looking for a gym and had heard of the ‘River Club’ apparently it had good facilities and was located right downtown. Chris actually made it sound like a good idea, but Jud used his temporary residence a reason to be reluctant in committing, even though the membership would offer him access to a number of places on either side of the city. Shelley however asked what would be involved in taking a tour of the place saying even if she didn’t end up working out as often as she would like, having access to somewhere to throw bridal and baby showers or hold work events might come in handy. Jud had a feeling he’d at least be touring it with her, since she’d been doing time looking for apartments with him.

Shelley was like a cat in regard to her space. Jud actually felt privileged in how often she let him in, her nest was open concept and roughly a quarter the size of Emmett’s place. Having to move back into her cramped high school bedroom and share facilities with her mom and dad had made her eager to be able to lock out the world. So he could get her not wanting to pull a bunch of people into what was essentially her bedroom as well as her living space. He’d probably end up back there tonight. She’d pinned him down the first time they’d had sex and earnestly explained that while the sex was great and more importantly she liked him she didn’t want an exclusive relationship. She thought he should be open to meeting new people and since he was going to be traveling over fifty percent of the time with his job he should keep his options open. That said she then asked if they could do it again. Jud was thinking he couldn’t have designed a better girl.

Despite Shelley’s request, when Alison the admin who gave Jud his assignments at work asked if he was seeing anyone he’d said ‘it’s a work in progress’. Because while he didn’t want babies and wedding plans or even to share a place like Em and his man did, it was nice having a regular girl you could just call up and say ‘hey, let’s go do this’. And he didn’t have to feel guilty like she was sitting around waiting for him if he had other plans. She had friends from her old job and she met with an alumni group for dinner one weeknight a month. He wasn’t fooling himself, he knew when he was traveling she’d be seeing other guys, probably recommended by those same friends. She did the same thing, she’d tried to fix up Tracey’s roommate with ‘the new little twitchy boy at work’, and she was kind of a riot in the way she looked at and described the world around her but Jud just put that down to her being an artist.

All in all it wasn’t a bad way to spend and evening. The lady was funny with everything from fart humor to insights on living in New York that weren’t at all glamorous. They stopped for desert at the restaurant next to the theater and then wandered down Sixth Street to the bar at the ‘Renaissance Hotel’.  It was all gleaming wood off the marble lobby and after getting their drinks they sat in a conversational grouping of plush loveseats and chairs just off the bar. This was not a Saturday night in Hazlehurst, and maybe Emmett was right and he needed to invest in some more suits. Because he kept ending up at happy hours and evenings like this either still wearing a suit and tie from work or getting dressed up like tonight. Oddly he didn’t feel at all out of place. It was something like walking into a TV show; people really did live like this and surprisingly he was one of them. He’d spent the morning playing kickball in Arsenal Park and thought nothing of showering and putting on a suit without a tie to head to the theater. Right here in the hotel there were others who were coming in from the symphony even better dressed as well as a rowdy crowd in jeans and cargo pants who had obviously caught a game across the river.

Tomorrow he was taking Tracy to see the apartment he was pretty sure he wanted. It was a sublet that HD had hooked him up with, not advertised. The owner had found the stairs too trying but wasn’t ready to sell. A townhouse it was actually four levels and he got why someone who didn’t like stairs wouldn’t want to live there. The first floor was basically the garage and stairs, although the garage was deep enough for two cars and had hookups for a washer and dryer. The next level was kitchen dinning and living, really all one room about as wide as a one car garage but again deep, up again was a small bedroom, some closets and the only bath, and the upper most level was the master bedroom. He figured he could use the small bedroom as an office and really he just needed a place that locked and had room for a bed, although the connected garage in Lawrenceville would have had this thing snatched up in an instant if the owner wanted to sell. The actual square footage was probably half the size of Emmett’s place but he really didn’t need a big space, like Shelley he wasn’t planning on throwing parties.

He ended up at Shell’s place and she may talk about them not being exclusive but she had a drawer set aside for him to keep causal clothes in, a privilege extended to no other man and he kept a toothbrush in her medicine cabinet. They slept in pretty late Sunday and were lying around wondering if they should go out to brunch or drop by and visit Emmett. Emmett would feed them better than any restaurant and Shell kept that fizzy wine in her fridge to add to orange juice so that as she said, ‘I feel less like a stray cat asking for a handout if I have something to give him when I come knocking to ask what smells so good’. Aunt Lula would love Shell.

He made coffee while she was drying her hair and turned on the radio. They did tend to switch each other stations a lot. Shell liked what she called hair bands and heavy metal; he preferred classic rock and southern rock. Jud was pretty sure that the fact HD knew the difference between southern rock and country was what finally made him okay with thinking of him as Em’s boyfriend. Given that he was a great big fairy and had a brother who routinely hustled basketball with a large black man who wore pink culottes and matching high tops it had been a surprise to hear the two of them launch into the indicative dual guitars of the genre.

As he was switching stations Shell came up poured a cup of coffee and after a few sips said, “Wait; go back.”

What he’d thought was some religious sermon, being Sunday, was actually the local talk radio. For once instead of arguing sports they were talking about someone beating a kid at his prom. Jud listened as one caller was disconnected for using profane language and derogatory terms like fag and saying the kid deserved it and figured that Shell had told him to go back because being her bosses were gay, and well Emmett, she felt pretty strongly about such things.

“Oh my God, Jud, that’s Justin’s prom. HD’s cousin was there, so was Justin and the rest of the kids from Rocky Horror,” she said.

The coffee was forgotten and they both threw on enough clothes to be decent and headed up the two flights of stairs to knock on Em’s door.

+

At the knock, Emmett looked up from his paperwork. It had to be Shelley or Shelley and Jud; Wade rarely stopped by without an invite and they were the only ones currently who could get in the building without buzzing. He stepped down from his office to the entrance. The walls were pulled around the guest room again and September was sleeping or trying to. HD had run out to the market as they’d depleted their supply of bread, cold cuts, and the ketchup that man seemed to put on everything, when they took food into the kids.

Emmett opened the door to find Shelly and Jud; Shelley greeted him with, “We just heard on the radio. Is everyone okay?”

Emmett ushered them in, over to the dining table as it was furthest from the guest room. While he put on coffee he said, “September is here, we didn’t want her home by herself. Justin’s fine. But one of their friends was the boy who was attacked. Did either of you meet Niles? He’s at Montefiore, in a coma. When we picked Sep up they seemed certain he would live. But they weren’t speculating as to how this head injury – well, maybe with Huxley being permanently impacted by his I’m borrowing trouble, but that poor boy.”

“Jesus, back home the big Prom night scandals included teen pregnancy and drunk jocks tipping cows,” Jud said.

“Back home the Gay Straight Alliance wouldn’t have attended as a group,” Emmett said, “Because back home everyone would have been helping the lunatic that swung the bat if they had.”

“Is the boy going to live?” Shelley asked as Emmett sat at the table with them.

Emmett said, “They think so, he’s in a medically induced coma until the swelling goes down. Oh, my heart just goes out to his mama she was just shattered. Not just that her baby was hurt, but to think someone hates him enough to try and kill him and that person was with him every day tormenting him. You expect something like this in some backwater sinkhole like Hazlehurst where the school board fills up the schools with their nieces and nephews, but this is a private school, the parents are paying thousands of dollars, you would think the kids would be safer.”

“You know his mama?” Jud asked.

Em said, “Well, no. She was at the hospital last night with his daddy. Huxley and I took over food and stayed with Sep until we were sure the boy was out of surgery. His mama was more than a bit out of it. I imagine she had a lot to take in. It’s a lot to take in for all of us.”

The screen slid back from the guest room and Sep shuffled out, swimming in one of Huxley’s tee shirts with one of his brown plaid flannel shirts wrapped around her like a bathrobe. She wrinkled her nose at the coffee and Em didn’t blame her she’d been drowning in the stuff all night. She sat next to Emmett, put her head on his shoulder and said, “every time I shut my eyes I see Niles laying there all broken and bleeding.”

“You’re going to have bad dreams, that’s a given,” Emmett said softly and put an arm around her, “but we won’t leave you, we’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I can’t believe they arrested Mike but not Chris,” Sep said. “I want to call Daddy and have him yell at them.”

“Maybe you should,” Emmett said, not actually thinking the cultured James Dae would yell at anyone. He was apparently from the British branch of Huxley’s family and could convey frosty disapproval with just inflection but Emmett had never heard him so much as raise his voice. “Jud and Shelley heard it on the news, if the story gets picked up and plays wherever he is he’ll be worried.”

Sep went back to her room to call her dad. Emmett asked how everyone felt about French toast and bacon. Shelley asked where HD was and when told went back to her place to get bread and some sparkling wine for mimosas and Jud pitched in setting the table. While she was gone he asked, “Where is her dad?”

“James travels a lot, September spends a good deal of time with the Payne’s but I do worry she’s on her own too much,” Emmett said. “There’s a big difference someone Shelley’s age wanting a place of her own and someone Sep’s age being in that big place all by herself, never mind the alarm system or doorman.”

“Doorman?” Jud said. “She doesn’t live in a house?”

“No, they sold the house when her mother died, and really houses are a lot of upkeep, not that she couldn’t call Huxley but they have the penthouse at the Carlyle,” Em said.

He had the grill hot and the bacon on and mixed up milk, eggs and cinnamon just like Aunt Lula. When Shelley came back she started to make the drinks while he soaked the bread before putting it on the griddle.

Huxley came in while they were plating it Sep came out and said she’d got voice mail. As the five of them sat down she said, “It’s early, to be out lecturing,” in a tone of suspicion as if her father wasn’t really away on business but just away from her.

“It nearly eleven on a Sunday, he could be in the air or at an airport you know what receptions like,” HD reasoned.

This time she put her head on HD’s shoulder as she nibbled on her bacon. The talk around the table was sparse. Jud and Shelley stepped cautiously around the issue of the injured boy with Sep there and Emmett could see that Jud at least had questions regarding what Sep’s father did for  a living and why she seemed alone all the time.

Jud shared he was thinking of taking the place of HD’s friend and that he and Shelley were going over to look at it today. Emmett mentioned it was good he had the corporate place another month because they could redecorate easier before he got furniture. The look on Jud’s face said he thought Emmett would paint his place pink. Shelley read it and giggled but said, “I think part of the appeal, besides onsite off-street parking is that its move in ready. It shouldn’t need anything but a good dusting.” Then she looked at Jud and said, “but we should take a tape measure and a notebook and get measurements, especially the staircases and bends and junk because people forget that just because the bedroom might be big enough for a king, if you can’t get it into the room you’re stuck with the bed that fits up the stairs.”

“Okay, that’s a point I hadn’t thought of,” Jud said. “Good thing you’re an artist and think like that.”

“I don’t really but my friend Beth fell in love with this sleigh bed, she talked of nothing but it for weeks, special ordered it and had it shipped and had to send it back, the delivery men uncrated the headboard and tried for two hours to get it around the bend in her stair way and there was just no way. Didn’t’ matter she had this huge master suite in her third floor apartment. It ended up she could not have a bed larger than a full. They measured the windows and even if they removed the window frames they couldn’t even have got it in with a crane.” Then she looked at HD and said, “You made a lot of really good choices with where you positioned the stairs and elevators. You probably lost square footage in your units but what is there is much more usable. Oh, and one of the guys I work with is interested in seeing one of the units you have on the second and fourth floors.”

Sep got a call from Tracy, neither had school tomorrow and Tracy was having nightmares too. She ended up curled on the sofa with her head in HD’s lap watching and old movie while he petted her hair. Jud and Shelley helped with the dishes. Emmett still wasn’t sure how he felt about how much time James spent on the road. He made a very good living but traveled, mostly during the school year giving lectures at universities across the country on various and changing subjects. With his tall blond good looks and rich expressive voice, the accent really was dishy, he was always an in demand speaker and from what Emmett understood made between ten and twenty thousand dollars per appearance. September dismissed it saying universities paid him from their lucrative student activities fee and that what he did was a cross between stand-up comedy and education but apparently it was something he’d been doing for almost two decades.

September never spoke of her older sisters and Huxley had tried to explain that the older girls had suffered from their mother’s mental illness as well. And while not having such climatic and dangerous experiences as Sep, the older girls had endured it longer and probably not had the therapy and counseling; or the support of the rest of the family when James was unaware of how bad it really was. January was in Boston, but rarely if ever socialized with Marc despite being close in age and April was living in London and had only a nodding acquaintance with James extended family back in England. The older girls had apparently picked up and not looked back, much like Emmett had when he left Hazlehurst.

“You look like you got the weight of the world on you Em,”Jud observed. He was helping with the cleanup, loading the dish washer and such while Shelley went to get her purse and something to write on to take with them.

“Just woolgathering,” he said. And if anything, Jud was an example that what was; wasn’t necessarily what would be. A year ago if anyone told him his brother and his girlfriend would stop by for breakfast most Sunday’s that Jud was in town he’d have thought they were crazy. Given he was here because it was free, and you never got to the point you scoffed at free food if you grew up with six kids and because he was sleeping most of those Saturday nights two floors down. But still, even back in February he’d have thought the likelihood was somewhere near to that of him walking the real red carpet at the Oscars.

+

It was a sad, sad thing; Brian thought when you were so much of a caffeine addict that you had to interrupt a good lie-in to make coffee so you could get rid of the withdrawal headache to go back to sleep. Justin’s phone was on the kitchen counter where it had gotten dumped with his studs and cufflinks when he zombie shuffled to bed.

As Brian leaned over the counter, communing with his coffee, he weighted the merit of making some calls. Emmett was really the only one likely to be concerned if he heard about the bashing and he was already in the know. The others probably wouldn’t even connect it to Justin, he didn’t think anyone but Vic knew or cared what school Justin attended. It was after noon so safe to call people but the bed was warm and despite their expectations neither he nor Justin had woke with nightmares. Possibly because they had both exhausted themselves with worrying long before last night. And possibly, regardless of how callous it seemed, because the worst was over now they could just move on and start to pick up the pieces. Honestly he was so grateful it wasn’t Justin, or Daphne, that he’d pay the kid’s hospital bills if needed.

Not that it was needed. Leave it to the artist to forget to mention his friend’s father owned three of the largest and most successful car dealer ships around the city. He’d realized Frank Payne was one of the most successful luxury home builders in the area; Frank had designed, built and reaped the profits from that gated community he lived in as well as several others. No wonder people spent over 10k a year on their kids’ high school education, these kids might not realize it but they were rubbing elbows with the offspring of most of the power brokers of the city if not Western Pennsylvania. Suddenly Craig sending his kids to some pansy factory with school uniforms and a crew team made much more sense. Old Craig was a greedy bastard and was probably just reaching the age where you realized making money while fun didn’t make you one of them. Not that Brian had ever aspired to be one of them anymore than he wanted to be an A-gay but he could see how a parent would want the ability to make a phone call and get their freshly graduated from college kid a six figure job and that was something these men took for granted.

Brian knew Justin, in between his fundraising, webcomic, political activism and work for Kinnetik was actually not so discretely compiling data on schools for Gus and the new kid already. He’d thought it was just WASPy and well, Justin. But some places, like St. James had junior schools, starting as early as pre-K. Brian remembered Lindsay drafting him and how important it was for her to get Gus into the right preschool. At the time he though she was crazy. How was eating paste, learning colors and sharing a cookie different in one preschool to another? He’d never even gone to preschool. Brian was pretty sure Justin was going to put together a PowerPoint presentation of his research, subtly or not so subtly steering the munchers to his choice. All Brian knew was it wouldn’t be fucking St. James.

Justin’s phone vibrated and Brian flipped it open and saw Daphne’s name on the screen. He answered it, “He’s still asleep Daphne. Are you okay?” While talking softly he wandered over to the screen by the door and saw her tiny figure huddled outside the exterior door, clutching the phone to her ear.

“Oh, that’s good,” she said, trying to sound light but failing. “I was just checking-”

She cut off when Brian hit the button to buzz her in. “Come on up, Daph,” Brian said, unbolting and opening the loft door before heading to find jeans or something.

He was buttoning up his 501s when she peeked around the corner of the door. He waived her in and went to the kitchen to pour her a cup of coffee. As he lifted the pot he stopped and said, “Would you rather have coffee, keeping in mind I don’t do girl talk. Or do you just want to crawl in with Justin and see if you can get some sleep. I can always entertain myself with work.”

“You don’t mind,” she said and God those bloodshot eyes were as large as Bambi’s. Brian shook his head and smiled. She kicked off her shoes by the bed and crawled in with her clothes on as he pulled on a tee shirt. It was probably a good thing she didn’t undress since Justin was naked and probably going to give him hell. Brian closed the louvers and went over to his desk and fired up the cutting edge dinosaur he was forced to work on in 2001.

There was an email from Frank Payne pretty much detailing what the dad division had discussed with Carl Horvath last night, or this morning. Brian shot him a quick ‘thanks’ and attached copies of the digital photos of Niles’ locker in case Tracy didn’t have a copy or hadn’t yet given them to her dad. He also mentioned that September had filmed the last two school board meetings and had been filming the Prom pretty much none stop. Brian added that September was staying with her cousin, given the girls were inseparable Frank probably knew how to get in touch with HD but Brian included Emmett’s cell number in the email.

Frank fired back quickly that he’d contacted James Dae and that no one last night had mentioned there was any film of the event. Brian said while Sep hadn’t been there for the bashing she had had to get an extra battery at one point and knowing her had a purse full of memory cards. She’d filmed most of the dance, some of the lobby as people were coming and going and had at least briefly filmed the scene that the paramedics would have come upon.

Brian then called Emmett. Sep was apparently sleeping still or it sounded less like still and more like finally, just like Daphne. “Do you have a computer?” Brian asked.

“Of course, and not just for porn, I run a business and so does Huxley,” Emmett said.

Brian would never get over Em calling HD Huxley, it just sounded so weird. He said, “See if you can down load what Sep recorded last night. Once the police know it exists they will take it in as evidence. We don’t want the only copy getting ‘accidentally’; destroyed or lost. What’s your business email address? I’ll send you a list of people who should get copies of the data, including Mel’s law firm and Jim Barron for the Miklos kid.”

“I’ll have September do it when she wakes, I really don’t know much about that digital camera, but I’ll get it out of the truck where she left it. How’s Justin?” Emmett said.

“Sleeping, Daphne showed up, God I don’t think she’d shut her eyes since the girls woke up Saturday morning, she’s sleeping with him so far neither seems to be having nightmares,” Brian said.

Emmett sighed and said, “I forget sometimes how young they are. None of them have school tomorrow. I’m going to see if we can get September to stay with us until James gets back to town.”

“Frank Payne will take her too, I think she has her own room at Tracy’s place,” Brian said. “Of course this is a guy who had that street kid living in his pool house for over two weeks so maybe not the most observant parent.”

They wrapped up and he left Emmett to go do whatever it was he did.

Brian was making adjustments to the ‘Spirit Air’ campaign. The airline was small and didn’t look to have the same type of clientele as ‘Grissom Air’ so he wanted to sell the convenience of short hops to Niagara as well as charters to vacation destinations like Vegas or Chicago. Maybe even have the airline tailor their advertising around some packages like destination weddings or bachelor golf getaways.

He was just getting to the point he was thinking of waking Justin and Daphne and either taking them out to dinner or ordering in when he got a call from Stavros Miklos. He spent nearly twenty minutes reassuring the pathetically grateful father that he didn’t need to hand over cash as soon as the banks opened the he could just mail him a check whenever and taking down his email address to add him to the people who wanted copies of all the recordings Sep had made and the photos. He said Jim Barron was already on the list but shouldn’t need it since Mike had clearly acted to save a life.

Brian wasn’t real happy that the dads seemed to be treating him as another parent. He wondered if they were just blind or intentionally blocking out the fact he was banging a kid the same age as theirs. Craig sure wasn’t and he never thought that fact would be a positive but at least even when he hated him he’d never treated him as a sexual nonbeing. He may not be wrapped up in the legend of Brian Kinney like the first time through but still, he should never be sexually irrelevant. Maybe he needed to take a day off and hit a spa.

Dumping his most recent cold cup of coffee in the sink he cleaned out the pot and set it up for tomorrow. Whether or not Justin and Daphne wanted coffee they were both shut off. He checked his nails and sighed. The phones and computers were bad enough but it would be years before that man-cave salon idea caught on and you could get your nails done in peace. Or would it? He headed back to his computer and started outlining what he remembered of the ‘Hammer and Nails’ salon he’d visited a couple years ago or a dozen or so years in the future. It had offered memberships hadn’t it, and comped services for membership referrals. Head phones, remotes for private TV’s, Pennsylvania liquor laws would be a bitch to allow the service of the complimentary beer but he’d have Ted look into it. Queen’s like Emmett may like the froufrou salon atmosphere most spa’s sported with women’s magazines and celebrity gossip rags but maybe sports massages and skin care could be masculinized. Pittsburgh might not have the metrosexual market of New York or DC but there were a growing number of smug vain bastards like himself of various sexual orientations that had dollars to spend on personal grooming. And if they used the same health care aspect of taking care of your feet and hands that had sold men on ‘Hammer and Nails’ a single well-placed salon easy to get to and perhaps with hours that catered to the before work and lunch crowds might just turn a profit. Maybe launch one first in DUMBO, rents were cheaper, close to Manhattan and the New York liquor laws were much easier to deal with, he’d have Ted run numbers on both, DC would be an option two. Maybe launch a couple at once with ads in ‘Men’s Health’ and then look into selling franchises.

He was typing away outlining details, considering strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threats to such a business. God he missed Google Maps, and some of the real estate data bases. To think in a few years he could get an overview of the neighborhoods of all three cities at his fingertips, check access, available parking and see if there were any largely unoccupied buildings without leaving his desk chair but now would have to shoot Judith an email detailing what he was looking for at least locally. Actually he already had a business starting in the bluff/uptown area maybe look for some more foreclosures, if it had parking available it might not matter that it was outside the Golden Triangle.

Brian looked up from the screen when he felt Justin’s arms circle his shoulders from behind. Barefoot, Justin had made not sound coming over.  He was in those worn grey jersey pants he practically lived in and shirtless. Brian turned his chair and slipped an arm around his waist and soon had a lapful of blond. Justin was subdued, lacking his brilliant smile but looked better than when they’d gone to bed. Without words they kissed.

“I love her,” Justin said when they pulled apart to breathe, “but putting my arm around the warm body next to me and it not being you is disconcerting.”

Brian smiled, okay it was probably a smirk and said, “Be glad she wasn’t naked.”

“Any news?” Justin asked.

“Not on Niles, but Frank Payne’s ready to kick some cages, I would not want to be on the board of your school right now,” Brian said.

Justin snorted and said, “you wouldn’t want to be on any school board; ever. Speaking of which-”

“He’s six months, let’s wait until he’s has his first tooth before we plan out Gus’ academic career,” Brian said.

Justin said, “he’s going to be amazing, like you, and should be nurtured.”

“You must be starving, and I bet Daphne didn’t eat. You want to order something?” Brian asked as Daphne came shuffling down from the sleeping platform.  Justin actually wrinkled his nose as if he didn’t want to think of food, so it must still be bad.

Daphne’s hair was messy and she was missing one sock and she came over and said, “I should probably head home.”

“Call your mom, tell her you’ll come after dinner,” Brian said.

She just blinked at him and said, “I’m a mess.”

“We’ll hit the diner,” Justin said and added, “I could go for a milkshake.”

It had been a while since Brian had been to the diner on a Sunday evening. It was an older crowd. Vic was there at the counter, keeping Debbie company in between customers. Hunter and the two younger girls were in the same booth he and Mikey spent afternoons after school in going over Michael’s homework. Of course the girls popped up from their seats and rushed them as soon as they came through the door.

They all headed back to that booth; Brian sliding in, then Justin and then Daphne with the girls and Hunter on the other side. It was a good thing they were all so skinny as it was he had Justin tucked up against him and Daphne was practically in Justin’s lap.

Brian’s attention drifted as the kids caught up. He really wished he still smoked and wondered if he were getting addicted to the nicotine gum. Debbie came and took the order giving Brian a weird look which he chose not to acknowledge. Yes he was a thirty year old man at a table of teenagers but he wanted to feed Justin and Daphne and they wanted to catch up with their friends and it wasn’t like he was going to offer Hunter money and take him to the bathroom.

Monica and Brittney were talking about stopping by the hospital but Justin pointed out no one would let them see Niles yet and that the nurses couldn’t release information on his condition. Daphne suggested they all go tomorrow since there was no school and maybe take some flowers and balloons so that when he woke up his room wouldn’t be bare. She offered to pick up the younger girls since she lived closer to them than Justin. Once they agreed she text the rest of the gang and meet at ‘The O’ in Oakland near the hospital. Debbie came with the food about then and Hunter asked her if he could go with them.

“Are you going too?” she said to Brian.

Brian rolled his eyes and said, “I have a company to run, I’ll be at work. He’ll have to find his own bad influence.” Given the look she gave Justin, Debbie must have thought he already had. Justin, for once, was oblivious as he was eating for the first time that day and pretty absorbed with his pink plate special.

Daphne however was not and said, “What the hell is that look for? Justin isn’t a bad influence.”

+

“Stand down, Fraulein Righteous Fury,” Justin drawled. “Debbie doesn’t like me. It’s a free world, she’s not obligated to. I have problems with her lack of boundaries as well.”

“I don’t not like you; I just think you’re too young for Brian. And I don’t think he should be spending time with kids, he’s an adult,” Debbie said.

“So am I,” both Justin and Daphne said in stereo.

Hunter said, “This is the first time I’ve seen him other than at your place.”

“How is it any of your business who Brian sees anyway?” Brittany asked.

Monica was back to slapping her hand over her mouth.

“You don’t even know Justin,” Daphne said, “or you’d be worried Brian is too young for him. I’ve known Justin almost all his life. You know why I like Brian; besides the fact that he’s good to Justin. I know if Justin picked him, he’s fucking awesome.”

“I,” Monica started first looking up and Debbie and then stopped and looked back down at the table and then started again, “I… really think you shouldn’t do what you do.”

And that was all she said, which for those of them that had lunch with her everyday stood out as a herculean effort to be applauded and offered cookies. Unfortunately Brian, Debbie and Hunter didn’t have lunch with her every day and they were looking at her like she was crazy. Witness Monica, the latest model of Tracy, Justin thought.

Hunter tilted his head, perhaps trying to look non-threatening but it would be a few years before he needed to put any effort into that and said softly, “Debbie’s going to need some more information on what you think she shouldn’t do.”

“It’s okay to think things but if all you accomplish when you say them is hurting people, you should just not say them,” Monica said. And okay that had been pretty much Mon’s life mantra until the start of the school year but she was coming out of her shell and she continued, “Maybe, if you just voiced helpful opinions, like the solution to a problem, something that’s better for everyone; or you know, at least two people besides yourself. If Justin and Brian broke up, only you would be happy. The rest of us, including Justin and Brian would be sad. So you’re not helping when you keep saying they shouldn’t see each other. Because that’s not about anybody but you, only you would be happy and that’s selfish. You should try find things that make you happy that also make other people happy. Or you could-”

“Okay, that’s good, we get it,” Hunter cut in.

Brittney looked smug and Justin figured this was why they were on Daphne’s side that Hunter should go to St. James. Brittney was finally learning not to do all Monica’s talking for her and these rambling explanations were becoming commonplace. If Hunter had secret superpowers to shut her down once she got started it would make next year much more peaceful. And then it hit Justin he wouldn’t have to go to school next year. Sure he’d have collage but Brit and Mon would be there without him. Oh, Hunt and Dixon were going down, no way in hell was he sending them there without the rest of the group.

“I’m not…” Debbie started and normally she liked having an audience but Justin could tell suddenly being the focus of their wide-eyed innocents, okay four of them may have been able to pull off innocent, even Hunter but Justin was pretty sure he and Brian looked jadedly skeptical. “He’s thirty,” she finally continued, “It doesn’t look good him sitting here with a group of kids.”

“Seriously, Deb?” Brian asked.

Debbie said, “No, Honey you know I would never think that but they have parents.”

Monica made an epp-like noise and took a deep breath and Justin figured she just figured out what Deb was, well not implying but warning Brian that other less open minded people might think. “That,” Monica squeaked, “That’s what I meant. Right there; that was a bad thought you should have kept to yourself.” And, of course, her eyes had teared up and Hunter put his arm around her and she buried her face in his chest.

Brittney turned a hard eyed look at Debbie and said, “Mr. Horvath thinks Brian is awesome. September’s right you’re just mean. She said you treat gay people like zoo exhibits. We at the Alliance believe gay people and straight people should be treated like people. Yes there are bad people everywhere; like Hunter’s mom or Chris Hobbs – and can I just point out they’re both straight but there are more good people in the world than bad.”

“Look you’re all very young-” Deb started.

“Annnnd; you’ve lost them,” Brian said. “Not one of them is listening to another word out of your mouth when you start like that. Trust me, I’m in advertising. Once you dismiss people they dismiss you. Listen I really don’t need the Power Puff Girls-”

“Actually,” Justin cut in, “That name’s already in uses but I do need a name for Fraulein Righteous Fury’s band of battling beauties.”

“Well I don’t need the Furyettes defending me,” Brian said, “I’m learning to embrace my bad seed rep, I’m thinking of growing a mustache.”

“Handlebar?” Justin asked.

Brian said, “Horseshoe.”

“No, just no,” Justin said.

“You’re joking but I’m actually worried about you,” Debbie said. “Whether or not they think so you and I both know that they’re just kids.”

“Deb, in a couple months Daphne here will be at John Hopkins and Justin will be starting at CMU,” Brian started.”

Brittney cut in, “and we kids will be back, day after day, in that hell hole where the adults who tell us we’re kids – like you Debbie - let people attempt to murder us.”

“If it’s still standing,” Brian said. “Frank Payne sounds like he’s going to raze that place to the ground and salt the earth.”

“You talked to Tracy’s dad?” Monica asked.

Brian said, shooting Justin a ‘what the fuck’ look, “We’ve been in touch. He wants a look at the footage September shot.”

“Monica’s kind of in awe of Tracy’s dad,” Justin said in answer to the look.

Daphne chimed in, “Mr. Payne is sort of the Alliance’s global thermal nuclear war option, we know he’d win any fight he was brought into but we figured it would be mutually assured destruction so we didn’t want to trigger him. But with Niles in the hospital, all bets are off.”

“Frank is not scary,” Brian said at the disbelieving look of the kids he added to Debbie, “he’s reasonable, a little over protective of his daughter but he really tries. When it all comes out just how much was going on he was unaware of he may have a stroke but, well, we all knew that little caper of yours wasn’t staying secret forever.”

“It’s not?” Brittney and Monica asked together.

Brian said, “No. I’m not taking bets but if he doesn’t know by the grad party I’ll be surprised.”

They’re eyes swung to Justin like a tennis match and he said, “Yeah, I assumed he knew already and was just utilizing the plausible deniability option because if he punishes Trace he has to sit her down and explain what she did wrong and why it was wrong and; that never goes well.”

Deb didn’t concede defeat but she went to take care of other customers for a while. The girls were chiming in names of their counterparts’ group in the webcomic. Daphne said after Justin finished the storyline based on Hunter he should have Hunter’s character enrolled in a school that was toxic and call it Saint Magniloquent. She said where the first issue would launch the idea of ‘Everybody’s Child’ and end with Fraulein Righteous Fury appealing to all the readers that everyone could be a hero by reaching out to help kids in need by participating in fundraising activities, that this issue could launch the idea that another way to be a hero was in starting or joining an existing Alliance in their schools or community centers.

“You sure you want to waste your time in medicine?” Brian asked. “I can launch your political career as soon as you’re legal.”

“That’s thirty for a senator and thirty five for president,” Daphne said. “I’ll have plenty of time to finish my residency before I’m old enough for public office.”

“How longs it take to become a doctor?” Hunter asked.

“Four years undergrad, four years medical school, roughly three to four years residency unless I specialize in something that takes longer,” Daphne said.

Hunter said, “So you’re going to go to school for like half your life, spend most of your money on school loans and malpractice insurance and only get to practice for maybe ten years before everyone thinks you’re too old and that you should retire?”

“It’s what she wants to do,” Brittney said, “I think it’s awesome. I don’t want to go to med school but I think it’s great you’re so driven and that you know what you want. I’m going to end up like September, I know I will. It’s not like there’s a job where you go out to lunch and talk to people all day. ”

“It’s called sales,” Brian said, “But it involves being nice to people you don’t like and then manipulating them to do what you want.”

“I do that all the time,” Brittney said.

This caused Daphne and Justin to snicker and Monica to chime in, “She does, and she’s really good at it too.”

“You can always get an internship at Kinnetik,” Justin said.

+

James Dae had called on his way from the airport to their home. Frank Payne had been in touch with him last night and early that morning to let him know September was with Huxley. Honestly, Emmett thought, would it have killed him to leave his daughter a voice mail to let her know he’d cancelled his next speaking engagement and was coming straight home? It was obvious he doted on his daughter but he was such a show don’t tell sort of man that Emmett worried September would not pick up on that devotion. She was like a sunflower turning toward the light.

Case in point that boy she was sort of seeing. He talked a good game all overdone declarations of devotion but he should have been with her last night. He hadn’t even called her after she left him a message this morning. The single time Emmett had met him he’d called her ‘September, darling’ so many times Emmett thought she’d changed her name. Not that the boy didn’t seem to treat her well; he’d brought her roses and September said he was real big on romantic gestures. But Emmett had had more than his share of whirlwind courtships and this reeked of planning little garden cottages and a fast break up before you learned their name.  This silly boy seemed in love with the idea of being in love and Sep with her long blonde hair seemed to be cast in the role of his Lady of Shallot.

He’d told Huxley this when he’d asked about him. Emmett kind of felt responsible in this instance since, neither Huxley nor Marc had met the boy. Marc wasn’t in town much; although he was talking about taking a position at Duquesne while he worked on his doctorate. Emmett was thinking of suggesting Marc hold off on getting a place of his own and stay with James and September for a while. Last night had been hard on her and not having her dad around, she may shrug and say she’d be off to college soon but he didn’t want her drifting into trouble. Thank God for that group of friends she had. Maybe next time he saw Justin he’d see what he thought of this boy. He and that little Daphne girl seemed to have no tolerance for fools and in Emmett’s opinion that’s what that boy was.

“Thanks for having me,” September said and hugged Emmett from behind.

Emmett said, “You’re family, you’re always welcome here. You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?”

“No. I probably won’t need my car since Daph’s playing chauffer for the juniors but I’d rather have it and not need it than need it for something and not have it. I’m fine I slept all day,” She said.

When September released him he turned and cupped her cheek and asked, “Are you sure honey, you were so fretful; you can’t have gotten any rest?”

After she left and HD set about thanking Emmett for taking such good care of his family. It was exhausting having a young one around, but not unpleasant, honestly though - Lindsay and Mel were just crazy having two of those.

+

Oddly enough when they got back to the loft and were getting ready to go back to bed, not only did Lindsay call Brian but Justin got a call from Mel – at the same time.

Justin wasn’t sure what Lindsay was discussing with Brian but Mel had heard about the incident at prom. Mostly second hand, Justin hadn’t seen the news or had the radio on but apparently it was on the local talk stations and Mel said she spoke with an activist friend who called her because Mel lived in Pittsburgh and it had been picked up by the AP wire. So Justin told her everything and Mel warned him that there would most likely be a news crew or two hanging around the hospital. Justin told her he’d pass the warning on to his friends and was glad they had chosen to meet at ‘The Original Hot Dog Shop’ and not in the hospital lobby. Without school uniforms and carrying flowers and balloons they should blend in with all the other visitors. But he should probably have a word with the girls about talking to the press and the dangers or slander – regardless of Mr. Hunt being a lying liar who lies.

Once they wrapped up the call and Brian got off the line with Lindsay they crawled into bed. Justin asked, “Is everything okay?”

“She’s just fussing, it’s the end of the semester and Kal’s summer classes are changing his schedule so she has to change hers but she has a meeting booked and wanted to know if I could take Gus,” Brian said spooning up behind him.

“I’m off I’ll take him,” Justin said, leaning back and enjoying the warmth and smooth corded muscles that wrapped around him.

Brian said, “I’ll just take him to the office.”

“You won’t get any work done,” Justin said.

Brian shrugged and started tracing patterns over Justin’s hip with the tips of his fingers as he said low and seductive, “that’s one of the perks of being the boss.”

“What are the others?” Justin said with a grin.

Brian said, “Let me show you.”

+

Brian was long gone by the time he woke up. If Daphne weren’t well aware of all Justin’s tricks he might have slept though their meet time but she’d called both his cell and the loft phone, threatening to send September over to lean on the buzzer.  So Justin was up, showered and dressed in time to be the first at ‘The O’. He got a large order of cheese fries because it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever had for breakfast and as soon as those dainty girls showed up they’d fall on them like a flock of carrion birds. Mike was next and greeted him with, “oh man O-Fries, how are you gay?”

Justin rolled his eyes as Mike helped himself. Between them they finished it off and got in line for a second order. Sep came in and said, “Don’t they have anything breakfast like?”

“O-Fries are practically hash browns,” Justin said.

She scoffed looking up at the menu and said, “Oh, they have a steak and egg sub. Wait, okay can I get the straight and gay male perspective; will ordering that make me look like a roller derby girl?”

“What?” Mike asked.

Justin grinned and said, “Allow me to translate. We get meet your PIFA, don’t we?”

“He was distraught when he got my message, to think I’d been facing such turmoil alone,” Sep said. Sometimes she sounded like she really like this guy and other like she wanted to push him in front of a bus. Justin wasn’t sure if it was the result of the same waffling like when she had to choose between schools or if the guy was giving her mixed signals.

“Distraught?” Mike said.

Sep said, “His word.”

“Order the steak and egg hoagie he sounds like a pansy,” Mike said.

Justin said, “If you’re hungry eat. Mike, if you use vocabulary to judge sexual preferences you’re going to get slapped by a lot of dykes.”

“Daphne says you shouldn’t use the word dyke,” September said.

Justin at last at the counter placed his order and turned to September and said, “It’s okay, I can say dyke because I’m a fag.”

“I can’t believe you just say that, out loud, in public,” Mike said getting a large order of fries of his own.

Justin took his fries back to the table; Sep came back with her order number and a pile of napkins and helped herself to some fries. Justin asked, “are you at all reticent about saying you’re straight?”

“No,” Mike said, “but when’s the last time anybody went after someone with a weapon because they were straight.”

Justin had a brief but vivid flash back to Cody and the Pink Posse and said, “You might be surprised. You push someone and sooner or later they snap – look at Columbine.”

“Jesus,” Mike said, “You know Taylor you can be a real downer; I thought gay meant happy.”

Justin snorted and then looked passed Mike, coming in the door was Ethan fucking Gold.

 


	75. And see what's on the slab.

“September, darling,” Ethan said in his overblown, ‘don’t you think I should be cast as Mr. Darcy’ sort of way.

Justin manfully did not laugh; he did exchange a look with Mike that said, ‘this guy is so very, very gay’.

They were introduced and Ethan looked nonplus as if it hadn’t occurred to him that some of September’s friends were good looking young men as opposed to girlfriends. Fortunately that was when Daphne, Monica and Brittney arrived, with a dozen Mylar helium balloons and distracted him. Justin asked the girls what they wanted and wasn’t too surprised when Mike joined him in line at the counter allegedly to help carry. The girls then had Ethan helping push tables together and wrangle balloons.

“So is he…” Mike asked.

Justin said, “Oh, God yes. But to be fair, maybe he hasn’t figured it out yet.”

“Is that possible?” Mike said skeptically.

Justin leaned against the wall near the counter, causally glancing over at their group. Daphne obviously had some sort of idea over night and was holding court in a very Stella sort of way. Ethan was practically wrapped around Sep as she listened attentively. Mon was giving Ethan a squinty eyed look that said she didn’t really trust him, but then Mon was slow to warm up to strangers. Brittney was looking at him with her head tilted, it was fifty/fifty whether she was imagining what it would be like to lick his abs or planning what to do if he was mean to Monica when she inevitably squeaked or slapped her hand over her mouth. Brit was a bit of a flighty social climber with all the tack of, well, Brian, but she was loyal, at least to Mon and to a degree to the rest of them.

“I know a guy with an ex-wife and ten year old kid who identifies himself as gay,” Justin said, “I never sat him down and said ‘hey, what’s up with that’, mostly because I don’t care. I mean some people get so wrapped up in trying to be what the world wants them to be, that I suppose it could have taken him thirty five years or so to get a handle on who he was. I know a lesbian that just had an affair with a man, which sure surprised the woman she’s been with for years. Some people are so busy putting up a front for the world they never get to know themselves. I'm not really good at putting up fronts; so I’m not the one to get an honest take on what that sort of self-delusion is like from. But yeah, sad that you can live thirty or thirty five years of your life either lying to yourself or lying to everyone else, but I guess they both deserves credit for finally figuring it out. Of course it would have been nice if they hadn’t had to hurt other people while doing it. ”

“Okay, in theory, fine,” Mike said, “But he should get to figure it out on Sep?”

Justin oddly found himself channeling HD when he said, “Right there with you, bro.”

They ordered two more large fries and four orders of wings and enough diet sodas to float a battalion. When Tracy and Paul came in with Hunter a round of applause went up to which Hunter felt compelled to take some bows. Mon and Brit dragged him down between them and Justin set an order of wings in front of the three of them and said, “that wasn’t for you, you ass. This is the first time Paul has ever been able to take Tracy out.”

“He’s with all of you, how does that count?” Hunter said.

Tracy said, “He came to the door and he was alone and Daddy was there and let me go with him. It counts.”

Mike slapped Paul on the back and magnanimously offered him one of the orders of fries. He kept the wings though in some complicated straight guy reciprocity that Justin didn’t really understand but probably had to do with the current likelihood of Paul getting laid verses Mike getting laid. September and Tracy had their heads together and Sep offered Tracy part of her sub and was saying something about double dating. Ethan, on the other hand, was now looking at Paul like he’d like to lick his abs. Which, okay, if Justin didn’t know Paul there would be a chance of a quick hand job, Chris Hobbs may have turned him off blonds for the most part but Paul was doable, if he weren’t, you know, eighteen.

By the time they all touched base and finished the food and trooped into the local flower shop it was after one. They then walked up to the hospital from Forbes and there was one lone news van out front but it might have nothing to do with Niles. Niles had been moved out of ICU and was in a private room. Justin wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that Mrs. Anderson was there or not. She did let them come into Niles room. Mike and he somehow were given charge of wrangling the balloons. Paul carried a spherical terrarium with a small bonsai tree surrounded by moss to simulate grass and a small ceramic tea house. This was chosen, unsaid, over flowers that might wilt before Niles woke.

Drusilla Andersen updated them on how his vitals were strong and the doctors were pleased with how the swelling was reducing. They were told he might be brought out of the coma sometime in the next forty eight hours. Either Niles had a harder head, or Chris hadn’t hit him as hard. Or maybe without someone there to call his name he hadn’t turned into the swing. Justin was surprised how standing there with the sound of the machines beeping was making him nauseous. He’d been fine or fine-ish the other night in the corridor but the small room and the sterile walls were making him feel confined and frustrated and terrified.

Daphne was suddenly under his arm saying, “Take a deep breath and hold it. Now slowly let it out, I’ve got you.”

And she did. Like always, God he loved her. This Daphne had never dealt with one of his anxiety attacks, had no frame of reference with what a complete basket case he could be and yet here she was strong and ready. He wrapped her in a hug and whispered, “Sorry. Flashback.”

“We’re all going to suffer from some PSTD,” Daphne said into his chest and Justin realized they had most everyone’s attention. Letting him go she said to everyone, “I’ve been reading up on it; so that we can be there for Niles. I called the University of Pittsburgh’s Medical Center and they recommended a program that councils groups someone can meet with us and give us advice on how to deal with the stress and physical manifestation of anger and grief. Not grieving for Niles,” she hastily assured Mrs. Anderson,  “grieving for, well the loss of the feeling of safety we had, now that we know life can and sometimes does take a violent turn. I left a message because that office was closed for the holiday but I think we should all attend it or one like it, and maybe Brian and our parents because this affected them too. This program sends people into workplaces and does seminars for the employees, like bank tellers who have been robbed or if someone dies in the work place, like police and firemen. We could all meet here at the hospital so Niles can attend too, once he wakes up.”

“Dad, in therapy?” Sep said, “I’d pretty much pay to see that.”

“Tracy’s dad in therapy, I’d pay to see that,” Brittney said.

Tracy said, “Daddy isn’t scary. Brian’s not afraid of him.

“Brian’s a superhero,” Monica said. And yeah, they were all used to Mon’s… well, Monica but Niles’ mom wasn’t.

Justin said, “Monica,” and he really intended to say no, that’s just a comic strip but instead he said, “So are you.” Because yeah, this insane group of girls had him wrapped and now both she and Brittney were smiling and of course most of the guys and Ian, or um, Ethan were looking at him like he was crazy.

Daphne, to the rescues, said, “It’s a webcomic. We’re going to use it to drive interest in the non-profit and start up more Alliance groups,” which if nothing else seemed to relieve Mrs. Anderson.

Afterwards he headed first to Redstone to let Bertie and Gran see he was fine and then over to Kinnetik, not for work but to use some of their graphic programs and printers. He’d been scanning and doing the strip from home and wanted to modify some of it, make it bolder, not for the online comic, but for gifts. Not so much graduation gifts, since he was giving both Monica and Brittney, and oh, hell why not, Hunter too, copies. It was a splash page – well it would have been if they had a comic book or graphic novel style format instead of a webstrip format - those glossy, near masturbatory arts shots of the whole team that were so common in Marvel. This one showed Fraulein Righteous Fury front and center with hands on her hips, flanked by Senorita Stealth and Drama Diva on one side and Mademoiselle Manipulative and Artiste Activist on the other. He’d been fussing with it forever and figured if he didn’t put print to paper it would never be done. He’d originally been planning a five copy limited edition, but it was kind of awesome and he figured if he were Paul and had dated Drama Diva, he’d want the poster in his dorm room. It didn’t really seem Niles style but they were his friends and he should have a grad gift too. And Mike would want one, or actually Mike may start requesting him to draw Angelina Jolie or some other hetero magnet. And then there were parents, Mon’s dad would get a kick out of his daughter the superhero, so would Daphne’s.

Justin tuned out the chaos of staff working round him and was absorbed in his work. Brian was putting off hiring more people until they were in the new space. They had upped the number of interns and Ron was traveling near constantly. He was charming and aggressive and Brian was toying with the idea of letting him tackle Leo Brown, but sort of wanted to do it himself for nostalgia sake. Brian returned to the office/warehouse and wandered over, pulled up a chair and sat where he could see the screen over Justin’s shoulder and chuckled and put his face down on said shoulder.  He said, “You do remember this whole thing was just to be a cover for a little slip I made about Rage to Michael.”

“You’re Brian fucking Kinney, you don’t do little,” Justin said. “I was thinking of giving posters of this as grad gifts but then I thought parents might like some too. If I do them numbered, like lithographs. How many should I do?”

“One hundred,” Brian said.

Justin gaped and said, “I was waffling between ten and twenty.”

“We can afford to do it right, ask the Centre for information on who prints your lithographs and see if they can run a hundred.” Brian said and as Justin started to talk he added, “Wait; hear me out. Give them to whoever you want. Keep number one and then the gifts should be the sequentially lowest numbers. Then don’t sell any more. When you have charitable events for your non-profit, starting with the highest number and donate one for auction or sale. As they go up in value you’ll be able to get larger and larger tax write-offs for them.”

“You’re diabolical,” Justin said.

Brian said, “That’s why you love me.”

Later that evening when they were getting dressed for Babylon, Justin said, “We got to meet this mystery guy Sep’s been seeing; you’ll never guess.”

Brian had a cross between ‘what the fuck’ and ‘why would I care’ but actually said, “Somebody I know?”

Justin just gave him a look and Brian turned from the mirror where he’d been fussing with his hair to look directly at him and said, “Somebody I do know.”

“It’s Ethan,” Justin said.

Brian said, “Well that’s not going to end well. Whatever you do don’t bang him; you do not want to get between a target and that man mountain.”

“As if,” Justin said, “God, Brian I wanted to choke him. Was he this bad, this young when I dated him?”

“Not having seen him now I can’t answer that but he was pretty… well not so much bad as deluded. I don’t think he was consciously manipulating you, well he was when he lied and cheated but with the whole ‘romance’,” and to this day Brian could still sneer that word to the point he that it sounded like a synonym for leprosy, “he wasn’t just selling that campaign to you, he’d drank the Kool-Aid himself,” Brian said. “He wanted it so bad, not just the companionship or the sex but some mystic connection, soulmates and life partners shit. He did what so many of those monogamy drones do. He suppressed part of himself, stepped into the role of the devoted and attentive lover. People can play any part for the short term but when they have to not only deny but not even acknowledge the parts of themselves that don’t fit that role. Like the part that wants to bang hot nameless men, well, then it’s just a matter of time before things fuck up, spectacularly.”

 

+

Tuesday morning, Brian was greeted by Carl Horvath as he came into the office. Given he didn’t really have an office to show him into, just an office area with a desk and bar cart, they sat around his huge vintage table with his staff coming and going all around them.

“Take a Xanax, Chadwick,” Brian said, “he’s not going to arrest you.”

“Why would he think I’m going to arrest him?” Carl asked.

Brian shrugged, “he’s fucking weird; my partner hired him. Cynthia can you have someone get us some coffee. We’re kind of camping out here, detective, until our new offices are ready. What’d you need?”

“You’re partner is Justin Taylor, a high school student?” Carl said.

Brian said, “Why don’t you save us both time and just ask question you don’t know the answer to I have multiple businesses to run and time is money.”

“How did you meet Justin Taylor?” Carl asked.

Brian said, “Will this line of questioning in any way relate to the actual attempted murder that occurred on Saturday night, or are you just looking to score your very own hot blond?”

“Mr. Kinney. You’re not being very cooperative,” Carl said.

Brian rolled his eyes, nodded thanks to Gail an intern from Pitt who brought over a tray with mugs, a restaurant style white carafe of coffee, a sugar dispenser and a pint bottle of milk. “What is it I’m not cooperating with Detective?” He poured two cups and dumped enough sugar in his to raise Carl’s eyebrow before gesturing for Carl to help himself, “your investigation for which I have supplied photos, films and eye witnesses or is it your attempt to cloud the case – probably on Jim Stockwell’s orders with my sexual exploits. Because seriously Carl, piece of advice do not get caught in the crossfire between Stockwell’s vendetta against fags and the parental Pittsburgh powerbrokers. I could care less if Hobb defense attorney paints me a whore or a sex addict on the witness stand, but if the police don’t take the battery of Niles Anderson seriously, based upon Stockwell’s pathetic family values based political aspirations, he won’t get a chance to throw you under the bus. The old money crew in all those gated communities out around Fox Chapel will be funding the election campaign of Hitler if he runs against Stockwell, and just trust me that I am that good that I could get Hitler elected. Hell, if I put my mind to it I could even get Stockwell elected. Stockwell does not hold your career or your retirement in his hands; not once he gets run out of town on a rail and if you take this line of questioning with any of those parents, they will.”

“So,” Carl sipped his coffee, black, “You’re a thirty year old man who was attending the St. James Academy’s prom as the date of a eighteen year old boy.”

“Justin Taylor, an eighteen year old man, is my legal partner,” Brian said, “and I attended his prom with him.”

“Pennsylvania doesn’t have domestic partnerships,” Carl said.

Brian smirked and said, “Neither one of us is very domestic, we eat out a lot.”

“This isn’t a joke, Mr. Kinney,” Carl said.

“You’re right. An eighteen year old young man, one bright enough to have been accepted for early admission by Georgetown is in a coma. His parents are wondering if he’ll need help to walk, or to speak or if he’ll be so brain damaged that he’ll need a care faculty for the rest of his life. And you’re here not asking about the assault or what I know about the situation but about my sex life. Justin and I are legal partners, we have joint ownership of Kinnetik, Taylor Art and TK Venture Capital,” Brian bit out,  “but if you really feel it will help build your case against Chris Hobbes and against any criminal negligence on the part of St. James Academy, I can give you positions, frequency and references.”

“Mr. Kinney has a ten o’clock meeting, Detective. Can we schedule this at a more convenient time?” Cynthia said.

+

There was a reason Mr. Omler hadn’t shown up at the hospital. Mr. Omler was supposed to be one of the prom’s chaperones, the one assigned to watch over the hotel ballroom. Apparently, they had pretty much, although Justin had been unaware of it, been on their own. Mr. Omler’s intended job that night was to evict students who became too rowdy and stop fights. However, given the values demonstrated by the school administration and Justin’s memory of how his own bashing had been handled Justin had a feeling the actual assignment was to prevent any cases of alcohol poisoning or date rape from being tied to the school. Unfortunately, his appendix had burst on site before the doors opened to the students. For the life of him Justin didn’t know if that had happened the first time or not. He did remember Daphne, years later around the time Molly had attended her Prom wondering why no one from the school had been involved with getting Justin to the hospital. It hadn’t struck her as odd when it originally happened because she’d essentially been a kid herself but it had always nagged in the back of her mind as something not right; much in the way the handling of his own locker vandalism had.

Lena had spoken to Justin on Monday night and shared all this about Mr. Omler as she had spoken with him. She had left him a voice mail when she first heard from Justin on Prom night but she told Justin that night at the hospital her message was just a ‘have you heard, call if you don’t think I should check on the kids’. It had been Justin’s idea when the cooked up her alibi for why she came running to the hospital. If Mr. Omler had answered she planned to offer to help since there were so many kids involved. However, Mr. Omler’s phone had been drained and in the drawer at his bed side until a friend brought him his charger, so she hadn’t received a call back until yesterday. She wasn’t planning in school and had called off for the rest of the week but she had told Justin the night before she didn’t think she could go back. He wasn’t sure if she meant for the rest of the semester or forever, she was staying with a friend and sounded either drunk or heavily medicated. She’d followed the school’s procedures for a call off and the substitute in Justin’s AP English class that morning said she would be out for the foreseeable future. Justin hoped Lena wasn’t going to get fired over not being able to face school right now, but it was probably better than her coming in and falling apart. Provided she and Niles didn’t out themselves she could always blame it on the divorce. Justin suggested she not answer her phone unless it was from one of them.

There were suits all over the admin offices and the school must be lawyering up. Justin called Allegheny General during his morning study hall and asked to be put through to Mr. Omler. After the rote pleasantries he asked if any police, lawyers or school official had contacted him. Mr. Omler was under the impression they weren’t aware which hospital he been taken to because as of yet no one had contacted him. Justin asked if Mr. Omler remembered telling him that if for any reason Justin could not get in touch with him that Justin should call Mrs. Orr as a backup for the Gay Straight Alliance. “No, I never told you that? I don’t even know Lena that well, I was surprised when she called and left a message why would I,” he started.

“Yes; you did,” Justin rolled his eyes as he cut in. “You said you didn’t think it would be necessary but with all the meetings we have and the service projects if for any reason we could not get in touch with you we should call, Mrs. Orr. Which is why, Saturday after Niles was assaulted and we were all heading to the hospital I called her; how else would I know how to contact her?”

“It must’ve slipped my mind, but you’re right, I think when I told her you were involved with a non-profit for less privileged young people she said she wanted to help and that’s when I gave you her number,” he said. Justin sighed, that was one loose end taken care of and at least he didn’t have to spell it out.

After study hall he stopped in the admin office and asked Mrs. Hodder if he could get an early dismissal for the day before his Calc class. Most of the suits were in with Hunt and it looked like a detective, judging by his poorly fitted suit. From this angle Justin couldn’t tell if it was Carl or not. There was another suit standing over the office worker who seemed to be fielding a deluge of phone calls. So there must be some sort of gag order in place.

“What’s the reason, Justin,” Mrs. Hodder asked.

Justin dragged his attention back and said lowly, “Honestly? After seeing what happened Saturday if I have to sit in Dixon’s class, knowing that sociopath groomed Hobbs to be his attack dog, I might bite him myself. But if you want, feel free to put down that the school fag is having the vapors. Did anyone call in to tell you Mr. Omler’s been hospitalized.”

“No we have him out unexcused,” she said in a shocked whisper as she filled out the pass and made an entry that even upside down Justin could read said ‘dental emergency’.

“He was taken out on a stretcher before prom, his appendix burst,” Justin said, “I know Hunt likes to strut around and look official but what the hell does he actually administer. You and the rest of the staff run things here and as far as oversight goes well we can all see how well that’s going. Are those his lawyers or the boards?”

 “The boards and his, they’re not in accord,” she said.

Justin grimaced, “Of course not, I was at the last two board meetings. He tells them what they want to hear. That’s going to bite him in the ass. They can’t cover for him when he keeps them in the dark. I know he didn’t mention the fire and the death threat in the last meeting, but did he let any of them know it happened or did he think his pathetic whitewash attempted worked.”

“You’re sure it didn’t?” she asked casting a glance over at the suit.

“Don’t lie for him; even to keep your job,” Justin said, “what Mr. Hunt forgets is we are in the information age. Did you know they have high-end phones now that can take pictures and send them? Did you know my father owns a string of electronic stores?”

The suit started to notice they were talking and walked over so Justin thanked her for the dismissal pass and left. He hoped she spread the word to the rest of the admin staff so none of them got taken down with Hunt.

At lunch they were all, minus Niles, huddled at their tables comparing notes on what was going on around the school. Justin filled them in on Mr. Omler’s appendix and mentioned it had been a good thing he thought to give him Mrs. Orr’s phone number to call if they ever couldn’t reach them. Daphne cut suspicious eyes to Justin but said nothing. She was still mad he was cutting out for the day since that meant she would have AP Calc alone.

“Go to the office and tell Mrs. Hodder you want an early dismissal,” Justin said.

Daphne sighed and said, “We’re not all emancipated.”

“Your mom would totally back you up, she knows we’re all just doing time these last weeks,” Justin said.

Daphne said, “I want to go to my last class just not Calc. I’m so mad at Mr. Dixon.”

“Go to the nurse and tell her you’re experiencing PTSD and need to lie down because Mr. Dixon is a trigger,” Justin said.

“Oh, I got in touch with the therapist.  Is everyone okay with meeting at Montefiore on Thursday? I figured its Skip Day,” Daphne said.

“Not a senior,” Brittney said, as Monica nodded and looked put out.

Daphne said, “I’ll call your parents, we’re not going to a kegger. This is therapy.”

“I can pick them up from school if it’s later or drop them off if it’s over early,” Justin said.

“It’s at ten,” Daphne said.

Sep asked, “What if Niles isn’t awake or can’t come?”

“We’ll have it anyway,” Daphne said, “we all were assaulted in different ways and we all have some healing to do and we can learn techniques that will help us be supportive of Niles.”

“I don’t want to heal,” Sep said, “I want to get even.”

“Hobbs isn’t here,” Tracy said.

“Dixon is,” Justin, Mike and September said together.

“Which is why I’m out of here,” Justin said, “sorry Daph, there is just too much chance of me turning into what Brian calls ‘a raving premenstrual drama princess’ on that ass.”

“You let him call you that?” Mike asked, “Why?”

“Oh, you and Paul weren’t here for that,” Justin said, “He’s hung like a stallion and the things he can do with his tongue would make angels weep.”

“Jesus, Taylor,” Paul said, “Don’t share shit like that.”

“I actually want to hear more,” Sep said with a grin, “and who did get to hear this, because I didn’t.”

Daphne raised her hand, “I also got to hear him described as the ‘face of God’ and Justin considering forming a new religion around him.”

“Brian’s gifted,” Justin said.

Thankfully for Paul and Mike the bell rang and they were spared more details. Justin headed for Kinnetik and found that Cynthia in addition to being awesome for Brian had taken care of the contact with the Centre and had arranged a run of lithographs with the printer. Since it was only one and a small printing they were able to be squeezed in and once he finalized the proof she would have a courier run it over. She had made an appointment for Justin that day at four to meet with the printer and approve the work. It would be done by Friday and Cynthia had arranged pick-up and delivery to Kinnetik.

“God, no wonder Brian can’t function without you,” Justin said.

Cynthia offered one of her serene smiles and said, “He seems to be doing all right.”

“He was an absolute bear. Your being here is an act of mercy to all of us,” Justin said.

“Stop maligning me,” Brian said. “I’m very easy to work for I always know exactly what I want.”

That was the problem with this space. There was no privacy. Brian had signed them both up for memberships with the River Club on Chris DeLuca’s recommendation. Crazy since they had a gym but the River Club offered meeting rooms like the hotels, but a littler swankier and gave them access to the same type of club in most major cities, so if they were meeting clients not large enough to have their own place to have meetings they would be able to reserve meeting rooms outside of the hotels. Brian’s taste in hotels tended to intimidate the hell out of some people or make them think they were paying too much. The city clubs all over offered a place that removed the home field advantage from clients and gave them a standing venue in town if they needed to throw a party without trashing the loft. Of course the kind of party with E in the punch bowl would have to stick to Ted’s gay country club if he ever got it up and working. So for now, until they were in their own place, Brian just met clients there or at a meeting room at the William Penn.

Apparently in running the numbers and examining the business plans of the surrounding country clubs and the River Club, which had the lucrative associate membership agreement with other franchises of the business model, Ted was reaching the conclusion that the kind of club he wanted - classy, Pittsburgh just did not have the membership numbers in the gay community to support. Not that gays weren’t classy they just didn’t have the sheer number of people that could first afford it and then desired it. Most affluent gays, the ones that desired a country club at all, wanted to be accepted in the mainstream ones and aspired to be embraced by the standing country club communities. Now a private club similar to the baths, but with more and higher-end amenities, and perhaps arranged companionship would have people clamoring to join but skirted too close to prostitution for Ted’s potential investors to be comfortable with.

Missing Brian’s private office at the old baths, Justin talked him into a quick trip back to the loft before he had to leave for the printers to be there by four to approve the proof. Ron was out of town, meeting a new client but surely Cynthia could hold the fort and keep Ian from panicking. Brian relaxed would be much better for everyone.

Wednesday was pretty much a rerun, although Justin had stopped first thing in the admin area and arranged to leave just before his last two periods for the few days remaining in the school year. He told Mrs. Hodder that he was seeking treatment for PTSD and that considering Mr. Dixon’s involvement with Niles assault it had been was detrimental to his treatment to have contact with him. He then went to his Modern Politics teacher and asked if he could take care of whatever remained for the rest of the year as self-study and she said she could have the Librarian administer the final in his morning study hall the day of the exam. That meant that for the remaining six days of the school year he’d be leaving each day after lunch.

And that was how he ended up being pulled out of his morning study hall with a summons to Mr. Hunt’s office. Once there, Justin took a seat at Mr. Hunt’s request. Two men in suits - well fit but living with Brian, Justin had more expectations and could probably gage their cost within a few hundred dollars, so medium price suits – lurked behind Mr. Hunt. Neither was introduced to Justin after he’d been asked to be seated.

“Justin,” Mr. Hunt began in that oh so reasonable tone he had used to recap the fantasy fighting incident as if Justin hadn’t been there, “I understand you’ll be leaving early for the rest of the year. We’ve spoken before regarding your attendance. A requirement of your emancipation is attendance of school-”

“I’m sorry,” Justin interrupted, “how unforgivably rude of me. I’m Justin Taylor. And you are?” Pointedly looking at each of the two men; listening in on their meeting.

“They’re not concerned with this-” Mr. Hunt started.

Justin cut him off again and said, “They are now. I’ll need your names and your firm’s gentleman. Now.” The one on Justin’s right, single breasted, grey tweed, started to pull out his card the one on the left, double breasted brown twill – and Jesus no one looked good in a brown suit, well Regan had, but really just, no – was older and looked put out so Justin added, “you’ve made a bad choice, gentleman.” He took gray tweed’s card and glanced at it. It said ‘Randal Gross’ and who apparently was with Todd’s firm; a firm Justin was sure specialized in family law. He glanced at brown twill who had not made a move so he said, “you must be the board’s lawyer and I suppose Mr. Gross is Mr. Hunt’s. Are you a relative Mr. Gross? I can only think that would be why you’re advising him on criminal negligence charges when you’re with a family law firm.”

“I haven’t been charged, Taylor,” Hunt said.

“You will be,” Justin said, “and now you’re endangering these two gentleman’s careers by not reading them in fully. They can’t protect you if you’re not honest with them. And having them present as you attempt, ham-handedly, to tamper with a witness in an ongoing criminal investigation could get them both disbarred.”

Hunt sputtered a protest, the board’s unnamed lawyer looked concerned and glared at all indiscriminately and Gross looked shocked. So Justin continued, “Let’s recap for those who weren’t with us for the first act in this drama shall we? I emancipated at seventeen. I’m eighteen now, a legal adult, you, Mr. Hunt, can no longer threaten my emancipation status as a means to get me to do what you want. In regard to attendance; I have fulfilled the minimum requirements for the year. I’ve made arrangements to take the only other test I have in the afternoon, outside of Calculus, in the morning. I am, responsibly, trying to minimize the contact I have with a grossly unprofessional teacher who should be and may yet be charged as an accessory in an attempt at murder of one student by another. You, being the administrator, should have taken care of this in your zero tolerance policy. In light of your whitewashing the death threat and destruction of property I would expect you to make some attempt to minimize this debacle. Why hasn’t Dixon been removed from school? At the very least he should be put on paid leave while the criminal investigation takes place. You suspended me in December when ten people went on record, and yes, gentlemen I can get you copies of the witnesses’ depositions, that I had done nothing to warrant being thrust into a lead role in yet another one of Mr. Dixon’s little fantasies. You threatened me in the past, with expulsion for not helping you hide Mr. Dixon’s unstable and prurient behavior-”

“Taylor, that’s enough!” Hunt finally gathered his wits to protest, “I won’t have you slandering a member of the faculty. “

“But you did let him slander me. My tuition was paid to attend and you deprived me of my education based upon him saying I was fighting when I wasn’t. If you had checked with any of the witnesses you might have been early enough to intervene in this matter before someone got hurt.” Justin said. “Dixon hates fags. Fine, its America, you can hate who you want. But if this school accepts tuition from fags, he has to teach them or find a job elsewhere. I told you then that his relationship with Hobbs was, disturbing. I told you then that the way Dixon subtly encouraged the abuse and harassment of targeted students was not only hurting the students, who I told you were being tripped and shoved and having their property destroyed, but was harming the ones like Hobbs who Dixon groomed to act as his Stormtroopers. I seem to recall the excuse you used at the time was that you were unaware such actions were occurring. Did you even attempt to open your eyes? You know, Mr. Hunt, I honestly don’t know if you’re just lazy and stick your head in the sand because if you see it you’ll be obligated to fix it or if you’re just as big of a frothing at the mouth bigot as Dixon.”

“Before this degenerates into name calling,” the unnamed suit said, “I’d like copies of the depositions you spoke of.”

“If I may have your name and card, I’ll have my attorney courier over not only the depositions but copies of the photos of the locker here that was ransacked, set on fire and had a death threat painted on it,” Justin said. “I assume that you haven’t seen them since Mr. Hunt ordered Mr. Omler, the teacher who tried to document this mess, to destroy them. What Mr. Hunt failed to realize is that we are in the year 2001 in a school with a very affluent student body; and many of our peers have access to cameras, even in their phones and that camcorders are now small enough to be dragged to Prom, if someone wants to record it.”

So once again lunch was spent updating his friends on the drama, and he left with contact information on both lawyers. Texting their contact information to Mel he requested she wait until after talking with Mr. Anderson before sending the copies of depositions and photos to find out if he was planning a civil suit, because if he wasn’t Justin was.

+

The course hadn’t been busy; Wednesdays after the morning rush rarely were, so Craig had got in nine holes fairly quickly. The down side of retail was when all the real networking was done on the golf course he was usually stuck overseeing his staff. He’d joined the club after he and Jennifer had married with the thought of making more advantages business connections, but Jennifer had had an eye for grooming the kids in the highbrow life. But, one advantage of retail was he could take time off during the week. After the big Memorial Day Sale he’d been too busy and too tired to make it to the club the day before. With how popular IPods and laptops were as graduation gifts he nearly did as much business as Christmas this time of year. So he was lucky to get some time to himself; and now Jen was expecting him to take time tomorrow for some meeting.

To be honest he got why Jennifer was distraught by what had happened at Justin’s prom. But, he was worried she was diving into taking a stand on this issue without thinking about what aligning herself with it could mean. Yes, anyone being hit in the head was wrong, but the whole gay aspect could reflect on his business and Molly’s reputation at school as well.  Jen had been on the phone with Rhonda and someone called Em organizing something on Thursday and she had already told him he had to come. Off the top of his head he couldn’t think of any of the mothers named Emily but Justin ran with a different circle this year. Craig hadn’t even realized that Frank Payne’s daughter or David Anderson’s son were part of his little group. Anderson was on the board at the club and Payne was one savvy business man for an old money guy gave off a hell of an intimidating vibe.

“Taylor?” Craig turned leaning his clubs against an ottoman near the changing rooms. As if thinking about him had brought him, David Anderson was standing there. The Anderson family was old Pittsburgh, their money having been made when Pittsburgh produced over a third of the nation’s steel. Craig was pretty sure they’d sold off the mills at the kind of profits that would keep the trusts going for generations even if David hadn’t owned three of the largest local car dealerships in the county. David Anderson was a quiet man, not prone to mixing much outside his own old money crowd so Craig was surprised he had approached him. Surprised he was here given what had happened to his son.

“David,” Craig said, “Jennifer and I want you to know Niles is in our prayers.”

David Anderson visibly swallowed and said, “Thank you, Craig. That means a great deal to Drusilla and I. I was just here canceling… no postponing, Niles graduation celebration. I didn’t want to leave without telling you what a fine young man you have as a son. Justin… Justin has been a good friend to Niles and he did everything in his power to bring to light how my boy had been treated by that school-”

When David broke off Craig was painfully uncomfortable. He understood that the emotions this man was dealing with were private. Not to be shared with anyone let alone another man and a veritable stranger at that. But maybe all those therapy session Jennifer had been dragging him to weren’t a complete waste of money. Because he could almost hear Lorraine saying, she understood that it was in his nature to fix a problem, deal with an issues to get frustrated when he didn’t know what to do, but that sometimes the thing to do was just listen, don’t offer suggestions or solutions, that silence was a gift, that letting Jennifer think out loud was actually doing something.

He gestured awkwardly to the nearby club chairs and they both sat. He offered, “I had no idea how bad it was until Jennifer attended that board meeting. You pay the equivalent of two years college tuition for your kid to go through high school and at the very least you assume they’re keeping him safe.”

“The very least,” David said roughly as if trying not to cry. And then he looked off in the distance where the large plate glass window showed the rolling green of the golf course and he cleared his throat and said, “My grandfather’s name was Niles. Some of the fondest memories of my childhood are of sneaking into his study. He smelled of pipe tobacco and the cracked leather and the old paper of books; he was always delighted to see me and would tell the best stories. Not some sanitized fairy tale of princesses and cartoon villains, but Gilgamesh, Odysseus and Beowulf – I loved that old man. I really believed he knew them that they all went out shooting together; he made those old heroes that real to me. When my wife told me we were having a son-” his voice broke and he struggled to get it under control. Craig was at a loss. He’d expected anger at the school or at the damn fool kid who had attacked Niles but this was; he wasn’t sure what this was.

“You know,” David said abruptly. “I’ve watched that show. Even thought it was quite funny - a witty take on family dynamics – I named my son after the best man I ever knew and I now find he’d been persecuted for the past several years because a character on a TV show has his name and is… well fastidious.”

“Bullshit,” Craig said. “Your son was picked on because the adults responsible for keeping that place safe didn’t do their damn jobs. An eighteen year old boy hit him with a bat – apparently thinking that was okay – Tom Hobbs should be right in line demanding to know why no one informed him his son was acting like a raving lunatic. Jennifer said they didn’t even call him in when your boy’s locker was vandalized.”

“One of Niles friends made sure I received copies of the same color photos she turned over to the police,” David said. “As I understand it, that principle ordered the evidence be wiped from a digital camera. She says she pocketed the data stick and replaced it with a blank one, but I have a feeling that one of the teachers saw to it that the information was saved. Your boy has been doing a damn fine job of documenting some of the games that Hunt has been playing, has names, depositions; gave me the home phone numbers of every board member and a list of people filing Title Nine disputes. The Chanders girl has a couple councilmen, a State Representative and a Senator all angling to get their faces on this issue. What does it say that our kids are the ones trying to clean up this mess?”

“That we raised them right?” Craig said, surprising himself. “I know you and your wife are hearing this from all angles and I don’t mean to be trite but if you need anything; not only from me or Jen, but Troy and Rhonda Chanders as well.  Niles wasn’t attacked because of his name or because he chose to speak up. He was attacked because some kid was made to believe it was, if not okay, something he could get away with. To be honest; when Jen told me what the kids were doing, at the board meeting and with this club, I thought it was a waste. They’re all out of there in a couple months, so I thought, why bother? And I said so right to Justin’s face, but he said, ‘I have friends there, who’s going to watch their backs when I’m gone’ he also said something about how bullies come and go, that while the worst offender, and I do think he meant the Hobbs boy, would graduate with him – that the environment that made him, crafted him into someone that can be used, and those are Justin’s words not mine, used, was going to be there to do it to other kids. To be honest, I thought he was being…” and Craig huffed almost a laugh at the thought of using the term, “a drama queen.”

David nodded slowly and said, “It sounds like you talk to your son more than I do mine.”

“Usually at the top of our lungs,” Craig said, ruefully, “I gave him an ultimatum in the fall. Told him while he was under my roof he would toe the line, tried to ground him. He ended up moving out and emancipating. I’m in therapy,” he sighed, “and being told from every direction that my son could no more choose to be straight than how tall he’ll be or what his eye color is,” he kept his gaze on his hands realizing this was the first time he’d admitted even in therapy that his son was gay; and said, “it’s a work in progress. I still don’t like him living with his thirty year old boyfriend,” and okay that word was sneered out but Craig felt justified, “or gallivanting around the club district at all hours doing God knows what. But it’s important for Molly that we try to maintain a civil relationship.”

He sighed and continued, “Jen, she worries, stuff like this is in the papers all the time. I know you’re boy’s not queer, but she, we… ours is, if not this time then next week, next month. He makes no attempt to hide it and the world is a damned unforgiving place.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” David said, “how do you know Niles isn’t,” and he hesitated with obvious distaste for using the word queer and said, “homosexual?”

“Justin told me - and Daphne. They both stressed that the need for this alliance group of theirs wasn’t just for the queer students, like Justin, but for any of the kids who were permitted to be persecuted,” Craig said, “at least according to Daphne and Justin. If when his locker was vandalized anyone at that damn school had done their job we wouldn’t be all waiting to hear he’s all right, we’d be celebrating his going to Georgetown.”

“Craig, thank you. And Drusilla, already has but thank your boy for me,” David said as he stood to leave, “I believe the kids have something at the hospital tomorrow so perhaps I’ll see you there. I must get going; the doctors are planning to wake Niles today.”

“We’ll keep him in our prayers,” Craig said standing and shaking David’s hand.

+

“Are you coming to this shindig of Daphne’s tomorrow,” Justin asked. He’d carefully not called it a group therapy or counseling session. Brian got his back up about therapy and while he’d occasionally gone for a drink with a shrink in the past-future he couldn’t very well talk with anyone about the events that had not yet and may never happen that had carved their own scars into both their psyches.

Brian sipped his bourbon and then held the glass to Justin’s lips. The fiery liquid left a smoky after taste and Justin sighed and lowered his head back down onto Brian’s shoulder. When he’d made it back home from the printers, Brian had already been naked in the Corbusier with a drink, waiting for Justin to get home. There just might be something to this Stepford fag fantasy of his.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Brian surprised him by saying. “Won’t touch on ancient history, but I do get the kind of guilt you’re trying not to show. None of this is your fault, Sunshine. And no matter how many times I tell you that you won’t get it. Maybe in your head but not your gut, not where you live. So maybe we can find some way to make you believe it.”

“I’m the one who asked him to join,” Justin said. “I know, from the last time, he had a normal happy life, without me having more than a nodding acquaintance with him.”

“Hobbs was harassing him long before you asked him to join, and he did the first time. Offering yourself as a convenient alternative target would not have solved this it would just have redirected it,” Brian said. And then he took another sip and muttered, “Pushing the motherfucker in front of a bus was a solution; if anyone should feel guilty it should be me for not taking it.”

“That’s not who you are, who we are, we don’t preemptively strike. If we believe we have free will we believe everyone does,” Justin said, shaking his head when Brian offered him another sip of bourbon. “And Hobbs chose to attempt to solve his problems with violence, both times. I swear to God I will make him wish you had pushed him in front of a bus. There will be no fucking community service.”

“That’s really out of our hands,” Brian said. “We can bear witness, but if the same backroom shenanigans between Regular Roy, Stockwell and Daddy Hobbs take place there’s not much we can do but you may want to start working on an ad for the ‘Concerned Citizens for Truth’, maybe splice some of that footage September shot.”

Justin tried to slide his arm around Brian’s waist and wondered why they were both jockeying for space on the recliner when they had a really comfortable bed a few feet away. He said, “Last time we were alone. Even my mom was trying to make it all go away. Not this time. This time it’s getting pulled out into the light. Mr. Anderson’s a pretty quiet guy, but he’s a lot like Niles – smart and fearless.”

“So this thing tomorrow, how much is it Daphne looking to score some Psych credits and how much is it you looking to form a counsel of war?” Brian asked, finishing off his drink. They both gave up on enjoying postcoital bliss on the Corbusier and climbed to their feet.

“Hard to say,” Justin mused as they headed toward the bed. “Daphne legitimately is worried about how this is impacting everyone. And she thinks Sep and I are ‘not focusing our understandable anger in a productive manner’ but I think your right. I think this is a war counsel.”

They crawled into bed for a nap. They were meeting Emmett and HD at Woody’s. Michael was going to dinner at some friend of David’s, but said he might be able to get Dave to stop by Babylon after. Justin didn’t think he would be able to, chiropractors didn’t get skip days.

 “So,” Justin said trying to sound casual, “I figure I’ll distract Em with talking about the seminar thing he’s helped plan for us tomorrow and you give HD a heads up about Sep’s boyfriend.”

Brian looked at him like he was crazy and said, “You figure?”

“Well it’s not like you can take Em to the bathroom while I tell HD,” Justin said throwing up his hands. “I at least have a reason for wanting to talk to him that doesn’t involve sex.”

Brian grumbled all the way out to the jeep saying he wasn’t going to pull punches and was calling it the ‘True Romantic Saga of Ian the Mawkish Musician and Justin the Love-struck Twat’.

 


	76. I see you shiver with antici - …- pation

 

Thanks to skip day, Justin woke to an empty bed and a vibrating phone on the bedside table. It was Emmett asking if he wanted to meet for breakfast at Pamela’s in Oakland. Why he couldn’t have thought of this when they saw him at Woody’s last night was beyond Justin. So twenty minutes later Justin strolled into the luncheonette with hair still wet from his shower. He’d paired a red V-neck tee shirt with jeans and sneakers. He always thought of it as his teenaged disguise, more so than his school uniform was.

Emmett waived him over and told Justin that Daphne wouldn’t be able to make it. This was the first Justin had heard she planned to meet them for breakfast so he just nodded and grabbed his already waiting coffee. Em updated him on things his mom and Daph’s mom had been coordinating with the parents. Justin was reminded of how his mom had dove into PFLAG once she had split from his dad. While some of the parents wouldn’t be able to make it because of work a surprising number, including supposedly both of his were going to be there. However, it was news to Emmett when Justin said he expected Brian.

It was nice to catch up. As they walked toward Fifth Avenue, the hospital was too close to be worth moving their cars with the campus and the hospitals all jumbled together, they stopped to wait for the light to change in a crowd of people doing the same.

“Justin?” a voice behind him asked.

He turned and said, “Ben? Hi. It’s good to see you.”

“You should be graduating about now right?” Ben asked.

Justin had to grin, after years of knowing Ben, that remark didn’t seem subtle at all. And it was so Ben; after the flush of endorphins he must have worried Justin was even younger than he was and was asking not just to be polite but to be reassured he hadn’t taken advantage of him. So Justin nodded and said, “I’m starting CMU in the fall. Oh, where are my manners, Em this is Ben Bruckner; Ben, my friend Emmett Honeycutt.”

They crossed together when the light changed and walked together up the hill between Forbes and Fifth, the side walk was busy, Oakland always was even though Pitt had ended term already and fewer students should be there for the summer term. Justin had looked over both Pitt and CMUs schedules thinking even if he didn’t go full time maybe over the summer he’d take one or two classes to get them out of the way but was glad he hadn’t. He wanted to concentrate on what mattered and if things went really well and he got bored, he could always start another project.   

Emmett thankfully was keeping up most of the conversation. Just because Emmett had a boyfriend didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the kind of eye candy Ben was. Emmett shared they were attending a seminar on PSTD associated with violence and of course Ben was concerned so Em spilled his guts, because, well, he was Emmett. They stopped when Ben did as he was heading to Presbyterian for some testing and a support group.

Ben was frank about his status and Emmett started asking about his support group, “Would you say it’s too gay?” Emmett asked.

Ben laughed and said, “Well I might not be the best judge. What exactly is too gay?”

“I don’t exactly know,” Emmett said, “but a friend has tried the one at the GLC and doesn’t really like it so I was thinking if this was less like that.”

“Brian thinks the GLC is run by repressed Stepford fags who are so busy kissing up to mainstream America that they’d cut off their balls if it would get them a seat at the table,” Justin said.

Ben looked thoughtful and asked, “You don’t think Brian wants to be heard, to have a voice in the community, the larger encompassing community outside of the gay community?”

“Brian has a voice, most people run when he raises it. But if you mean does he aspire to sit on the city council or run for office, hell no. Brian could be a king maker but has no desire to kiss up to whomever holds the current reins of power. He’d be more likely to build his own kingdom and let people come to him,” Justin said and then he asked Em, “Are you talking about Wade? I thought he was okay with the GLC, I know he and Vic have talked a lot.”

“Thank God for Vic, that man is a rock,” Em said. “He should be running the support group; Wade said that he thinks the twitchy little queen running it is afraid of him.”

“Wade’s a big guy, anyone who could put HD through the Plexiglas would by nature be a little scary,” Justin said, and at Ben’s curious look Justin said, “Wade used to play hockey with Emmett’s boyfriend; there’s this long story that kind of made sense when it was diagramed out with beer bottles involving high sticking, a really creative insult to someone’s mother, crashing through the wall of the rink, a broken collar bone and permanent brain damage. Which is why I stick to yoga, it improves your flexibility, strengthens your core and if it’s done right, remains noncontact.”

Ben shared the days and time his group met with Emmett and they parted.  It was only another block or so to Montefiore. They had left with plenty of time but stopping to talk with Ben had them arriving to a waiting crowd. The hospital had some rooms where they gave classes for the community on healthy living or adapting to live with recently diagnosed conditions. Emmett had arranged coffee service to be set up in the back of the room so most people were clustered around making tea or coffee and chatting.

Daphne’s mom and dad were both in attendance. Surprisingly so were Justin’s, he’d expected his mom but not his dad despite Emmett saying he was on the list.  Sep’s seldom seen father was there and Emmett made a beeline for him greeting him like an old friend. Justin hadn’t even been aware they’d met but it made sense since he was HD’s cousin as well. Tracy was with her and Paul’s dads. Paul wasn’t in sight yet but Mike and his dad were talking with Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, perhaps about Mike’s case. Justin really wanted to get an update on Niles but didn’t want to butt in. Brittney had no parents but was there with Bob Horvath and Monica. Monica smiled and came over, she hugged him and said, “They woke Niles from the coma, but he still hasn’t woke from being unconscious. Mrs. Anderson doesn’t want to leave him but Mr. Anderson said she can’t do anything for him while he’s sleeping and that this may help her help him when he wakes.”

Justin slung an arm around Mon and took her over an introduced her to his parents. She gave them an update as well on Niles’ condition and it sounded like she’d been doing it awhile as she added more each time she told it. Her dad and Brittney joined them with Brit wiggling in under his other arm. Justin noticed three strangers come in and head for Emmett, Daphne broke away and headed to them. While they were setting up a laptop and a pulling down the overhead screen, Brian came in with Lena. Brian stayed close and was kind of steering her with a hand to her back. Justin left the girls with his parents and headed over to them.

“Look who I found,” Brian said with a smirk.

Lena cast a furtive glance around the room, eyes darting to Niles parents and all the other parents in the room. Justin hugged her and said, “You’re only going to be our teacher until the ninth but you’re still going to be our friend okay?”

At her nod he stepped back and said, “Niles is still unconscious but he’s out of the coma. The doctors are very happy with his vitals and his brainwave activity. He’s expected to wake up later today or tomorrow,” Justin shared.

“I’ve been… lurking,” Lena said, “they probably think I’m trying to steal drugs or something.”

“Hospital staff can be pretty perceptive, they probably know why you’re here,” Brian said. Justin wondered if Brian had used his vast charms on the staff when he’d been the one laying in that bed.

Daphne and Sep came over and thanked Lena for joining them. Justin was sure Daphne had figured it out but Sep just seemed to think Lena was there as a teacher and even asked if she’d heard from Mr. Omler.

Unbeknownst to Justin, Daphne and Monica had arranged for some of them to meet at Allegheny General later that day to see Mr. Omler and drive him home as he was being discharged this afternoon. Justin had been volunteered to go buy food to put in his fridge so he wouldn’t starve to death and was to meet them at his place, wherever that was. Justin was planning to go to ‘McGinnis Sisters’ and doing what he and Brian had done when Ted woke from his coma.

Fortunately the program started before they had to introduce Lena to any parents. She sat between Daphne and Justin. Brian was on his other side and Justin’s mom and dad were over with Trey and Veronica Chanders and oddly Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. James Dae and Sep were with Tracy and her dad, which made sense since the girls had been so close so long. Mike’s dad was with Paul’s and Bob Horvath. Mon and Britt were sitting with Mike and Paul joined Tracy when he came in from wherever he’d been off to. The room was a bit larger than they needed but it let them spread out.

The seminar started with advice on how to listen to someone who was hurting including, not saying anything critical or trying to minimize other people’s pain as well as not offering unsolicited advice. It emphasized taking care of yourself and getting help when you needed it both your own wellbeing and so that you could be there for others. It included tips to combat stress, like talking to others in the same situation, comparing reactions and reassuring yourself and each other that you’re not alone in the way you’re feeling. The councilors told them not to worry if they find themselves telling the story of the event over and over because that is normal. And advised them to try to stick to a routine and that with school letting out that might be hard. They recommended filling time with hobbies and physical activities and to resist the temptation to turn to alcohol or even caffeine and sweets. The main suggestion that was woven into all of these was time; give themselves time and to concentrate on a healthy diet, regular sleep and to postpone major life decisions until each one of them had had a chance to heal a bit and that that may take different amounts of time for each on them. As they moved on to signs of PTSD in others, numb feelings, avoiding places and things that remind them of the event, working all the time or becoming isolated, Justin leaned over and whispered to Brian, “marriage proposals, buying random mansions in fucking West Virginia and misguided monogamy;” and promptly received an elbow in his ribs for his attempt at levity.

It was going like a lecture at school and Justin thought they really should engage the audience more to keep their attention actively involved in the learning process. If smartphones were around they would have lost all of their attention by now to ‘Angry Birds’. But September raised her hand and said, “That’s good advice, but we didn’t just survive a hurricane together. This was violence. Premeditated; and it is still going on. I’m angry and I have a right to be. Someone I care about was attacked and this isn’t a random act of violence. A junkie didn’t try to steal Niles’ wallet. Chris Hobbs is someone I see every day and he didn’t just accidently almost kill Niles; he targeted Niles. He planned this out. He took a fucking bat to the prom! Who does that? And then after planning it out and lying in wait he snuck up behind him and hit him, tried to kill him. And then Mike is arrested for trying to keep him from finishing the job? That’s the crime the police pursue? In what world is that rational? Mike’s out on bail but he was arrested that night and Hobbs wasn’t? Not at first. Hobbs is out on bail, now too. Does everyone realize that? We might have to see that rat bastard at school? He gets to attend commencement, graduation, and Niles is here fighting for his life – tell me what is a rational response to this behavior because this; this is fucked up.”

And the counselors, who may not have been fully briefed, other than they had been at the prom that had a student attacked, surprisingly followed their own advice. Everyone that cared to got to rant and after several had gone even Mrs. Anderson stood and shouted out her rage at the police and the school. Justin got the impression that the quiet elegant woman rarely even raised her voice, because Mr. Anderson looked lost like he was wondering how to solve the problem. Fortunately Mr. Payne had vented his anger already over the phone with the various local and state officials Daphne had provided. Brian also admitted softly to Justin that he had slipped Frank the names of some of Jim Stockwell’s backers for his political career. So Mr. Payne then calmly advised her that PC Stockwell was probably getting pressure regarding both Mike’s arrest and Hobbs release.

Justin stood after Mrs. Anderson had thanked Frank Payne and retook her seat. He was quiet, not as much as a rhetoric tool but because he was acutely aware that most of this audience saw him as one of the kids, one of the ones who needed to be protected.  He said, “Chris Hobbs is an ass. What he did was wrong and I don’t mean to diminish the seriousness of his failed attempt at murdering Niles, because we all know that’s what it was. You don’t swing a bat at someone’s head if you don’t want them dead.”

Justin noticed Carl Horvath was standing at the back or the room and wondered how long he’d been there. He concentrated on staying calm and continued, “I’m the last person who would dismiss this as an act of ‘misguided youth’.” And okay sneering that out might have undermined the calm adult he was trying to present. “I’ve fought long and hard to be taken seriously despite my age. But the term ‘misguided’ is highly accurate here. I don’t know what kind of home life Chris had and frankly I don’t give a damn. But I know what his school life was like. And for the past four years we’ve been in high school together, certain members of the faculty have run that place like ‘Animal Farm’ – we’re all equal, but some are more equal than others. This goes beyond the normal halo jocks are accorded in the closed societies of any other high school. Hobbs verbally and physically assaulted other students, often in sight of faculty almost on a daily bases. If I shoved any of your daughters up against a locker and told them to suck my dick, I would be expelled, not suspended. Hell I should be arrested if I did that, that’s not how people behave or it’s not supposed to be. Hobbs did this to male students including me and was never called on it. Mr. Hunt claims he’s unaware and Mr. Dixon facilitates opportunity for this to happen, because he hates fags. Those two men, groomed Hobbs for this, they taught him that as long as you choose your victim right, you can do anything you want.”

“Well not anymore,” Justin said, “They did it to me but they’re not doing it any more. Monica and Brittney have another year and this. stops. now. We start calling, every parent if we have to, no one is going to want to risk that their kid is going to be targeted next time. Because as long as Hunt and Dixon are there, there will be a next time. Not just another Niles, but another Chris Hobbs just waiting to be used by them. And while Mr. Horvath and Mr. Poppins may be able to pull their kids out and move them to ‘Shadyside Academy’ or ‘Winchester Thurston’ – not everyone can. Those schools have limited space and it’s late to find places for next year so everyone else can’t just all leave St James, we have to fix it, so it stops here, and we stop it.”

 The counselors, God love them, talked about anger management and constructive behavior. And for the most part their group gave them polite WASPy attention. After they left and the coffee service was refilled they started pooling resources and Frank said he could get the board at the very least to hold an emergency meeting with parents using the three magic words ‘class action lawsuit’. Justin was beginning to see why Brian liked Frank so much.

Carl Horvath was introduced around by Bob, who was his cousin. He explained he was investigating the case and while heresy wasn’t admissible he would like to hear anything each of them had directly experienced. Daphne and September lead off, recounting all the dyke comments and leering suggestions that a real man could fix them. How Hobbs had had at one time or another slurred or slut shamed everyone but Tracy. Now that Justin was more aware of Frank’s rep he figured it had less to do with Paul and more to do that Chris’ father knew Mr. Payne or at least his construction company was occasionally hired to work on one of Payne’s housing developments. So maybe Chris had been told not to offend his daughter.

The parents as a whole were getting more and more shocked but it was Paul and Mike that Justin was keeping an eye on. Apparently other than generally dissing Hobbs the girls must not have confided any of this in them. To Justin it was pretty old hat. And it got worse when Tracy took over detailing all the times she had seen Hobbs push or shove Niles or Justin or Darrel Burke who played cello, all the queer and fag comments hissed and sometimes even shouted. Daphne chimed in how sometimes in Calc, Hobbs would say ‘queer’ after one of their names during rollcall and Mr. Dixon refused to acknowledge it happened and recounting the day Dixon went wild and gave the test three months early. Which lead to Sep relaying the rumors Tina Myerson had been referring to, that Hobbs blew Dixon and the fact that Hobbs could not go a day without touching base with Justin in some way, a shove in the halls or slurs in class. He’s stopped coming by at lunch since the suspension but Daphne said he did it more in class, since Dixon never corrected him even after the suspension.  Carl occasionally took notes not showing much surprise but maybe that was how he was on the job. James Dae was quietly seething, in a very refined and British way, to find his daughter was being harassed and no one was putting a stop to it, and Frank Payne gave him a nod that without speaking told Justin that Hunt would be having the two of them as visitors before the day was over.

As people began to disperse Justin stopped to speak with his parents, voicing his concern if either Hunt or Dixon remained that they might target Molly when she got to high school. His mother was talking about pulling her from the school, but his dad pointed out Winchester-Thurston’s junior school was a much further commute. Justin suggested if his mom pulled Molly away from her friends without consulting her it would set off the Drama Queen gene. Since it was the end of the school year his dad suggested waiting to see how things turned out and maybe meeting with the junior school administrator to voice her concerns before the start of the new term. Justin suggested reading Molly in to an edited version of what was going on at the high school and when his mother balked because of Molly’s age he asked, “If something like this were happening to Molly or one of her friends, would you want her to tell you?”

“Of course,” his dad said.

“Well Tracy didn’t tell Frank. You have to talk to Molly, let her know there are lines that shouldn’t be crossed and that if something like this happens to tell you,” Justin said. “You know this is unacceptable behavior, but Molly’s never been to high school, most of the kids that witnessed this stuff just write it off as how it’s always been. They spend their days trying to fit in so they won’t be the ones harasses, and that means accepting whatever their told is normal. Girls like Daph and Sep are pretty ballsy but they’ve been raised to respect authority, to follow rules and to be polite. If all you tell Molly is to behave and listen to her teachers then it makes it that much less likely she’ll tell you if this sort of shit is going on. Tell her she’s to come to you if she sees something or if something is done that makes her even slightly uncomfortable. And start now so that when she’s a fifteen year old screaming hormone bomb she’ll actually do it.”

Brian had been seeing Lean off but must have run into Carl because the two of them joined Justin and his parents. Justin felt Brian hand on his lower back as he stopped beside him. Justin continued, “People like Dixon start small, they wait, if no one reports them, they up their game a bit. There are eighteen kids in my Advanced Calc class, they saw exactly what Daphne described on a daily bases. None of them told their parents. Tina Myerson stepped up one day and tried to stop Hobbs from harassing Niles. Dixon gave a test in December not scheduled to be given until March. Everyone’s grades suffered, but it was effective. By punishing the whole class, that was the last time any of the rest of them objected to Hobbs behavior, at least where Dixon could protect him.

Carl wrote down Tina’s name and Justin volunteered, “Hunt’s lawyered up, but if you speak with Mrs. Hodder, who works in the administration office she can get you the names of everyone in each of Niles classes. If you ask for all of them Hunt won’t know which ones to obstruct.”

“You think he’d do that,” Carl said. And Carl was pretty good at remaining neutral and not letting any indication that Justin was raving drama princess show, but Justin knew him and it was there for those who knew the look. Brian must have seen it too because he spoke up.

“Detective Horvath,” Brian said, in a tone that preluded a rant, “Justin can be your best friend or your worst enemy, he is currently doing you the courtesy, mostly due to your relationship with Monica, of believing that you actually care if people are obstructing justice.”

“I got this,” Justin said, splaying a hand on Brian’s chest. He was acutely aware that his parents were right there and listening and his dad still really didn’t like Brian, hell his mom might be warming up or at least hiding the distaste for the man debauching her son but neither of them needed to meet Rage.

“Carl, you’re thinking of this the wrong way. I get that you have vast experience with investigating crime. But you’re hearing high school and treating this incident and the events leading up to it as if it were a public school. A private school is more like a college, so let me lay some facts on you about colleges. Close to one in three women in colleges are sexually assaulted in some manner in the four years it normally takes to graduate, less trackable and usually not reported is that one in six young men are sexually assaulted. If this were happening in the real world, the police would be called in, but on a college campus, the police, if they’re notified frequently let campus security handle the matter. The college administration will often pressure the accuser to retract the statement, try to shame them or imply it was their fault. Victims have to see their attacker on a regular basis, some have been then assaulted again by the same person, and often the university admin will have several accusations against the same attacker from multiple sources over the course of the attacker’s academic career,” Justin said. “I’m not making this up; you should see the Title Nine cases against Dartmouth or Amherst. Those on the surface look like the kind of schools that parents should be willing to shell out over a hundred grand for an education for their kids. But the administration of the schools aren’t concerned with justice and often concern for protecting the students takes a back seat to protecting the schools reputation. Their job is to keep enrollment up and the reputation spotless, so if they have to browbeat an eighteen year old girl who was just sodomized on what she thought was going to be a romantic picnic on the floor of her dorm room they’ll do it, and sleep well at night.”

“You’re used to flashing your badge and maybe not the accused but random witnesses telling you what you ask,” Justin said. “The office staff at St. James Academy has been told if they cooperated with the police that they’ll be fired. If you get them to talk, and then don’t pursue this - which is what everyone expects you to do - they’ll be out on the street and no one will have been helped by the matter.”

His dad had to get back to work. Brian suggested to Carl that Frank Payne and James Dae were going over to the school and that the lawyers would be distracted while they were there giving Hunt a piece of their minds if he wanted to talk to any of the staff privately.

As they were leaving, Justin slipped his arms around Brian’s waist and said, “Thanks for coming; I know this isn’t your thing. Did you have to move your schedule around much?”

“No, let’s be honest, I wasn’t scheduling anything for right after prom, just in case. What with all that’s been going on Cynthia has been keeping me pretty open,” Brian said. “I was expecting to have to answer more than a couple questions for the cops. You got plans for lunch?”

“It’s a gorgeous day, maybe ‘Lucca’s? The patio should be open – you remember that salad they have with the roasted grapes and lemon oil? You used to adore that topped with salmon,” Justin said. 

Brian was obviously trying not to smile when he said, “best idea I’ve heard in a while.”

Justin had been instructed by Daphne before she left to meet them that afternoon at Mr. Omler’s place in Bloomfield, with groceries but other than that he had no plans besides babysitting Gus that evening. They strolled down Fifth Avenue, blending in with students, and hospital and university staff, out enjoying the weather or heading for lunch themselves. Brian slung his arm over Justin’s shoulder and they just ambled along. Brian left his car at the hospital lot and Justin’s was down off Forbes in a public lot. He’d almost not driven, it would have been faster to take the bus, but given his assigned grocery run he was glad he had a car with him.

They turned once they reached Craig Street and its kitschy little shops. Apparently ‘Phantom of the Attic’ a long standing comic shop had been bilking college students out of their parent’s hard earned cash for years, even when Brian was in school. It was still on the list of places he and Mikey hit when killing a Saturday. Alone and not having to worry about people thinking they were insane, Brian pointed out what had changed since he was a CMU student and Justin pointed out what would change between now and when Brian had died.

A little more than halfway between Fifth and Forbes, ‘Lucca’ was an Italian restaurant; a bit pricier than the numerous fast food and noodle places that catered to the student crowd. Its menu changed frequently and it specialized in fresh seasonal ingredients updating traditional Northern Italy Cuisine to reflect modern health conscious lifestyles; and the desserts rocked. So for Brian it had a variety of mix and match salad options and Justin could still get a burger with prosciutto and provolone followed by zeppole with vanilla bean reduction and drizzled with homemade chocolate sauce.

A leisurely lunch on their raised patio gave the men a view of the street and let them catch up. After Woody’s the night before, they had headed to Babylon and danced until late. When they finally made it back to the loft where they could talk they had other things on their minds. Once the attentive waitress - and Justin just had to grin and bear how wait staff everywhere were always so attentive to Brian - finally went back indoors, Justin asked, “How did HD take you updating him about what happened in the original timeline?” And then he wanted to cringe because seriously he sounded like one of the sci-fi nerds going in and out of ‘Phantom of the Attic’ up the street.

“Gruffly; in a ‘now would be the time to spill if anything is a threat to Emmett, Bri’, sort of way,” Brian said, and then added, “have I mentioned I really don’t like it when he calls me Bri, he only seems to do it when he’s questioning my intelligence.” His words gave lie to the fact Brian and HD were actually becoming pretty good friends, the two had played a couple games of pool while Em and he had Daphne, Sep and Tracy on speaker at the table and conferenced about today’s meeting. Brian had not only given him a heads up about Ethan but more details on Justin’s prom the first time through.

“You’re a big picture person,” Justin said, “I get the impression HD is an immediate picture sort of guy, he sees everything around him in incredible detail, well not color, and assesses threats. I never see him when he’s not with Em. But I kind of want to… I want to know but I’m kind of scared to ask him if he tried to change anything with Sep’s mother.”

“He’s definitely a hands-on thinker,” Brian said, “and he seemed pissed that we knew things were bad and the kid was ‘bat shit crazy’, in his words, and didn’t give him a head up. If Hobbs had focused on Sep instead of Niles I think we’d have been disappeared along with him -- you know I have clients in Westmoreland County it’s not that backwoods.”

“I don’t know Brian there was a lot of mining done out there, all those little towns that started as company owned settlements around a particular mine, there have to be miles and miles of deserted shafts, whole houses and businesses just sink into the ground because no one remembers where all the tunnels are. I bet if someone from one of the older local families wanted to get rid of a body it would be pretty easy,” Justin said.

Brian made a face and said, “On that happy thought. I filled him in on how the last time Hobbs got off with community service. And then, the big dumb ridge runner -“

“Brian,” Justin said.

“HD,” Brian continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “wanted to know why he was only charged with simple assault and not attempted premeditated murder. He asked if we wanted to get his mum involved.”

“I’m trying to picture the woman who gave birth to him and that weird brother of his and just can’t do it. Em, loves her but Em loves everyone,” Justin said. “What could she do?”

“She knows people, or knows families, according to him she can ask anyone what their mother’s maiden name was and trace it back a couple generations, at least if you’ve been in the region and were of any note,” Brian said, but added, “not your kind of note, not who’s who or old money, she knows the families as in, the families.”

“Mafia?” Justin asked.

“No, or not only,” Brian said, “Back in Prohibition, everyone was a criminal because everyone still drank. But nepotism has been alive and well since they built the first fort down at the point. Every little neighborhood and every little town for fifty miles up and down each river had mills and mines and families who ran things, either the original owners or the ones who started up the various businesses and unions. From the golden glove contenders to who married into which family he said his mum knows names and dirt. He suggested if we get internal affairs looking at Stockwell and push for a change of venue to any of the counties surrounding Allegheny she can pull strings.”

“Jesus, wouldn’t it be nice if it was like on TV and cops arrested people, they had a trial and went to jail,” Justin said, “Hobbs is out on bail, he may be back at school and come to graduation, this is ridiculous – he was when he hit me. Fifteen years later and Daphne would still get mad that he got to attend grad and I didn’t.”

“When he tried to kill you,” Brian corrected, “he didn’t just hit you; he tried to kill you. I saw him sneaking up behind you, with a bat that was no spur of the moment decision he planned it and he didn’t intend to scare you he intended to kill you. The kid’s a fucking lunatic.”

They made plans to meet before going to the girls and that was going to be an experience. Justin remembered at Woody’s the night before Brian had taken a call from Lindsay just before they left for Babylon. “Fuck,” Brian said as he disconnected and repocketed his phone.

Justin looked over from where he and Em were saying goodbye and said, “Problem?”

“You mind watching Gus by yourself tomorrow night?” Brian asked with a twist to his mouth that indicated distaste and irritation.

Justin said, “No problem. What’s up?”

“The munchers want me to attend couples therapy with them,” Brian said and at Justin’s snicker said, “Shut up it’s not funny,”

Justin laughed outright and said, “You’re like one of those sultans in the old tales, who has problems with his haram.”

“I’m telling them you said that,” Brian said.

Justin said, “No you won’t, you don’t want to deal with the fallout from your baby mamas.”

HD had then dubbed Brian ‘the sheik of Liberty’ and was completely immune to Brian’s glare.

As Justin headed to ‘McGinnis Sisters’ he hoped Lindsay and Mel straightened stuff out. Their drama really was happening at the worst possible time. Brian in a nod to HD request regarding Emmett had confided that last time Godiva died just before Pride, but that was at any time now and hopefully the vacation they had planned in July would pick up Emmett’s spirits afterward.

+

Michael disconnected his phone. He’d tried to contact the guys but had reached both Emmett and Brian’s voice mail. Cynthia said Brian was out of the office and asked if she could pass on a message but he told her he’d already left a voice mail. Ted was reluctant to commit to going out as apparently he’d been out the night before. He mentioned he’d seen Brian and Justin at Babylon last night and while David wasn’t much for going out on weeknights it would have been nice if Brian had given him a heads up that he would be there, it wasn’t like he and David were surgically attached.

Michael was currently surrounded by his comic book collection. He was in process of moving them from boxes into the cabinets Dave had bought. Michael didn’t even want to think how much David had probably spent on them; they were wooden and looked like real furniture, two drawers high and four drawers long. If he didn’t know better he’d think they had specifically been made for comics but this wasn’t like the ones in the comic stores which were normally that white fiber board found in assemble yourself furniture. Three of the low file cabinets had been delivered and placed in the lounge under the big picture window. Side-by-side they looked almost like a built in window seat. He was busy reordering his collection because he wasn’t sure all of them would fit. If they didn’t he didn’t mind storing them, as long as it wasn’t anywhere cold or wet or where they might be damaged.

Dave was still a bit put out by the amount of memorabilia he had, but as Brian said last time they talked about it, summer with a ten year old should open his eyes to sharing his space, or drive him round the bend. Michael was less surprised that Dave was able to let him into his territory so to speak than he was Brian being able to share the loft with that kid. Seriously he knew Brian better than anyone and regardless of the sheer numbers of tricks that had been back to the loft Brian did not like people in his space. He was - not that Michael would use the word to him or around him, or anywhere it could get back to him - prissy. Come flying in the back room was one thing; not covering your mouth when you sneezed was something else. Brian might let random strangers suck his cock but he wasn’t about to let them linger afterwards, less because he was afraid of emotional attachments and more because they might put down a drink without a coaster.

So how had some high school kid moved in, shared a closet, and Jesus, Brian letting someone in his closet, or taking up his drawer space, or fucking with his grooming products was just inconceivable. But he did, almost as soon as they met. Michael had been waiting for the big blow up, for him to throw the kid out over something no one else would see as major, putting his feet on the coffee table, spilling a drink on the couch, but it never happened. Hell, they’d redecorated or at least moved some stuff and got some new furniture. That dining room table was freaky. Why in God’s name would Brian want a table that could pull out to eighteen feet? Ma sure could use something like that but Brian wasn’t going to have a dinner party like Em.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that that Justin kid was always laughing at him. Not overtly, Brian would never stand for that. But he’d mentioned it to David and even he had said that sometimes Justin seemed oddly mature, almost older than Brian. Dave said he didn’t notice the laughing thing though, but to be fair, sometime Dave did the same thing. He would get this look in his eye; it reminded him of how Brian would look at him back in high school, kind of well, like fond amusement.

Michael went back to organizing his collection, thinking he might want to pick up some dividers the next time he was at the comic store. He set aside a few limited series he hadn’t read in a while. He wanted to check some continuity issues in one of them. It could have an impact on there the current story line was going. It really shouldn’t take too long if he just glanced through it now after all he’d been working on this for a while and a little break couldn’t hurt.

+

Lunch took longer than he expected but Brian had the feeling Cynthia was glad to have him out from underfoot. Brian didn’t get why he intimidated the interns so much or Chadwick – well Chadwick was afraid of everything and there was probably a story there but fuck if he cared. The big open concept building had two defined rooms, one they were using as a break room with a fridge and microwave and some comfortable resin lawn furniture and another that had the art department filled with drafting tables, printers, and other equipment; the rest was one big high ceilinged room, with the men’s and women’s facilities over the two partitioned off rooms. It hadn’t seemed worth getting any cubical dividers, Brian really didn’t see that fitting Kinnetik’s style in the new building and they wouldn’t be here much longer. But it would be nice to be able to get out of sight of the staff, since Cynthia said him being visible scared the hell out of them. He missed having blinds he could close when Justin was around.

The disadvantage to all this open space was he was learning too much about the people working for him. He’d always been able to keep out of the office gossip and keep the art twins and random interns at arm’s length, now he couldn’t help overhear that Bob or Brad’s, whichever one was married, wife was late, but they’d had several false alarms so weren’t calling it yet; or that Ron was finally getting back on his feet after the divorce from hell but was tired of commuting from Castle Shannon and since business was good was looking for a place in the city. The last thing he needed was for the minions to become people to him.

“We really need more artists,” Shelley said to the room in general as she came out of the art room and looked pointedly over at Bob and Brad who were chatting with Ron. “I haven’t received the animation proofs, is that a problem with the server or have you not sent it yet?”

Brian hid a smirk, she looked like a freaking push over or like she should be waiving pompoms but the girl was a hard ass; woman, whatever.  Brian drawled, “Yeah, I’m going to need you to hire someone who specialized in that, look for someone who gets CGI or at least the concept, nothing wrong with old school but the wave of the future and all. Most of the interns here are business majors, so scope out at least four art students and get them in here and one graduating senior as a full time staff member, have Cynthia arrange some interviews for you on campus, hit the locals, Point Park, PIFA, not just CMU.”

“Me?” Shelley asked.

Brian said, “You’re the head of the art department.”

“I am?” she said, “What about Justin?”

“Justin,” Brian said, “is a silent partner, he’ll help out when we’re desperate but his priorities are school and his own art. You’re in charge of the art staff.”

“Cool,” she said with a bounce, sounding about eighteen herself and then shifted to her take no prisoners’ voice and said, “Okay, everyone back to work. Cyn, I’ll send you job descriptions and my schedule for the next week, is that okay?”

“Perfect, Shelley,” Cynthia said and came over and handed him a coffee and said to Brian, “I emailed the updated sales information. Ron nailed four new accounts, two of which he said we could revamp their web presence, so we need to either subcontract that out or hire our own people.”

“Check TKVC’s clients, we just started up some students who did the websites for Justin’s non-profit they may need to expand their staff but if we can keep feeding them business it will work, or they may take on interns since their still affiliated with CMU,” Brian said.

“Davis said they have a final inspection scheduled for June eleventh,” she said. “That’s the soonest they could get a building inspector in but according to him, it’s practically ready.”

“Wade McLeod says HD’s idea of ready and everyone else’s differ,” Brian said.

Cynthia said, “Well, Davis said and I quote, ‘if the boss wants any bitchy little princess last minute adjustments made he better speak up before I book a flight out of the country’ end quote.”

“Sometimes I don’t think he respects my authority,” Brian said.

She said, “He might if you didn’t sound like Cartman.  Why don’t you go take a walk through, you can suggest he change the color or move everything four inches to the right.”

“I kind of love that you’re a bitch,” Brian said as she gave him a serene smile and went back to her desk.

+

Emmett checked his list as HD loaded the last of his serving equipment into his van for him. He’d offered to do it at cost but HD said that this was part of doing business and that he was passing on the cost to Brian. Once a week HD brought in lunch for his crew, not just pizza, although when they worked late pizza or subs or some form of fast food was sent for, but a real hot catered lunch. HD favored pulled pork and ribs from ‘Smokey Bones’ but they brought in trays of pasta from ‘Olive Garden’ or a spiral cut ham or full chicken dinner from ‘Boston Market’. Thank God none of the crew was vegetarians. The standing order was a great way to have lunch with his man once a week and this week the weather had been so nice that everyone had gone up to the roof.

The front façade of the building made a parapet that kept down the wind since that was the side of the building facing the direction of the river. The parapet gave some privacy, not that there were any taller buildings nearby but it would be nice if Brian entertained clients up there. Most of the skylights were staggered in a checker board along the back side of the flat roof so HD had put a deck along the parapet with some built in seating, raised gardens and an area covered by a retractable canvas awning that came from a company that cleaned stored and repaired it every winter. When it was done the roof top would have an outdoor kitchen, a fire pit, six small water features actually part of the drainage system to keep water from pooling on the rooftop and a widow’s walk, which given the location and view of the downtown skyline should be perfect for watching fireworks from or the barges going up and down the river. If the weather held he was hoping to use that space as a secondary food prep area for the launch party Brian had hired him to do. Surely the guests at the opening would want to enjoy the view, he was thinking of lining the roof with square white paper hanging lanterns and maybe having an Asian theme to the appetizers up there.

HD slammed the back doors of the van closed, gave him a kiss and a slap on the ass and went back to work. Emmett used to worry about parking his van near the site but either the local kids didn’t have the heart to ruin its beautiful paint job or they’d got a look at the size of the guy who routinely kissed its owner. Emmett got in and drove off with a wave as he headed home to clean and store his equipment. He was meeting a mother and daughter to taste wedding cakes later today to see if he could open their eyes to the fact they should pick the menu before the cake, unless price was no option. Between the two of them they wanted somewhere between twenty and two hundred people, either a complete vegan menu or pate starters with a beef and chicken option. Surprisingly it was mom who was the hippy and the daughter who wanted a wedding just like Diana’s; he just prayed he wasn’t asked to help pick the wedding dress. One wanted a sheath of organic free trade cotton the other wanted yards of silk tulle inflating enough satin to drape a float. 

Speaking of floats he had to stop by Liberty House and see Godiva afterwards and make sure he had everything he needed to make his dress for Pride. Emmett had offered to get some of the dresses he’s stored and have them altered since Godiva had been feeling poorly and Emmett didn’t want him overdoing it. Emmett would be happy to pay to have someone do the work for him; he hardly had any expenses of his own outside the business. He was glad Godiva had agreed to ride with them on the float, he wouldn’t have minded pushing the wheelchair but just last year he’d marched and Godiva hadn’t missed a parade since Pittsburgh started holding them in 1973.

After that, Brian’s big opening bash was planned for the weekend before the fourth of July. Business outside of his friends and acquaintances was picking up, but he wasn’t swamped, he was thinking of taking on an assistant and was wondering if he should think of expanding to full time catering. Vic was an awesome resource and loved Emmett’s kitchen but so far most events he’d hired third party services. HD had suggested converting part of one of the next remodels into a commercial space for ‘Aunty Em’s’ with a kitchen and storage for anything Emmett felt would be worth acquiring to rent out to clients, like the lighted dance floors or chocolate fountains. Emmett had no doubt Huxley could find any number of places like that old convent looking to liquidate a variety of things from linens and glassware to commercial mixers and walk-in freezers. It just seemed like a big step, it was scary enough working for himself without the pressure of having employees who relied on him for their jobs. Of course Huxley thought he could do it, Huxley thought he could do anything, but like Justin, Huxley had been running his own business since before he graduated high school.

Brian had already contracted HD to remodel a smaller building for him and Wade was moving most of the crew over there soon. HD had two places lined up that weren’t time sensitive of his own. It was nice that they wouldn’t have to let any of the boys go until more jobs came. Emmett had been a nervous wreck worried that they would have to let someone go and Huxley had been cool as a cucumber saying work would come. Together they had a household account that they both put money into for groceries but HD had pretty much said that the utilities and property taxes all came from the rental account which Emmett was on and that had made him nervous as well. Surely Shelley’s rent didn’t pay all of that and he knew Wade was getting a discount.  And tonight Shelley was bringing a friend from work to look at the empty units so there would be rent from that; that would be three units out of the six that were filled without having to advertise or contact a property management service. Hell they could post a ‘for rent’ notice in the diner and fill these units in a day if HD was willing.  Still it was nice getting to choose your neighbors.

HD had brought up posting a listing at the diner when he joked at lunch that there was a chance they could be outnumbered by straight people and he didn’t want Emmett feeling nervous. He was never going to stop poking fun about giving Brian tickets so that he wouldn’t be stuck alone with Jud and his straight friends. The comedy tour was this coming Saturday. Still he was looking forward to it, to think comedians were playing the ‘Benedum’ as opposed to the little comedy club on the Waterfront. They really should arrange to meet for drinks beforehand and given it was Jud, probably not at Woody’s, but he shuddered to see Brian in any bar Jud would pick. Well Shelley and Tracey would be there so Jud should behave.

Emmett had a slew of grad parties arranged over the next month, Sep and Tracey must have given his name out because that St. James crowd dropped serious change on these things. Lord back home cake and burgers in the backyard was about all the hoopla people put out. Theirs was at the conservatory, he had one at an Irish pub in the Mexican War Streets and three on the ‘Gateway Clippers’ and one at the tearoom of the Frick Mansion. Apparently every country club in the surrounding area was booked solid, if not grad parties, weddings so he had had several frantic phone calls in mid-May. He would defiantly need a vacation by July.

Emmett was more than just going out of town, he going to Paris. The Monday after the fourth they would get on a plane, business class to New York but from New York to Paris it was first class. It sounded like a needless extravagance but HD assured him that with their legs it was necessity for a flight over seven hours. They were going for two weeks and would leave New York at about eight at night and wake up in Paris. They were renting a houseboat by the Quay, whatever that was, but HD said it was in sight of the Eiffel Tower and close to the Notre Dame Cathedral and the Paris subway. Neither of them spoke French so HD had handed his credit card to Justin when making the final arrangements. Justin had spent quite some time on the line with their host and Emmett kind of got the impression he was emphasizing how tall the two of them were and concerned that the barge or boat might not have high enough ceilings but Emmett could careless he was going to Paris; he’d sleep in a hammock if that’s what they had. Mostly they were going to shop and eat and dance but Justin said the owner had offered to get them tickets ahead of time and they were going to see ‘Feerie’ at the ‘Moulin Rouge’. He and Teddy had just adored that movie. Huxley had even gone one of the times Emmett saw the movie. He’d leaned in and whispered ‘you do know dancing naked women don’t do anything for me, right’ but the costumes had been divine. Kevin though had been highly critical and thought that Madonna should have been cast in Nicole Kidman’s role.

Emmett planned to stop by a book store and pick up a couple travel guides and do some research especially if there were any thing geared to gay nightlife and any English speaking shows. Hopefully he could find something in Paris HD would like to do. It may be his dream trip but there was no reason it had to be all about him. He really needed to pencil in some research time onto his schedule.

+

Brian was just getting out of his Jeep as Emmett pulled down the street in his pretty pink Barbie van. The rainbow bursting out of the tornado was pure Emmett and a nice piece of artwork on Justin’s part. He hoped Ted had steered Em into copyrighting the logo and checked out whichever corporation currently held the rights to ‘The Wizard of Oz’ because that could be a lawsuit just waiting to happen.

He walked up the street from the parking lot. He didn’t need to cross and take it in the way Cynthia had the first time but he really liked the way the name looked in the long window above the entrance. Cynthia and Justin had been pouring over catalogs and websites for the equipment and office furniture they needed to do business verses what would actually look good. And while Brian was willing to bow to their individual expertize regarding drafting tables, light boxes and high tech printers he didn’t want the place looking like some call center with cheapass cubical and MDF room dividers. Justin was looking into the same movable metal art displays they’d seen in Texas at ‘Voltaire’.

They were finally at a point he didn’t need a hardhat to walk through the doors. The lobby looked immense but once they placed a reception desk and some seating, maybe mounted a television running business news or showing some of their own ads on the wall it would be suitably imposing without looking empty and implying they had no clients.

He walked though both the men’s and women’s facilities on the first floor, the conference room, two large empty offices and the security center. As far as he could see they could start moving furniture in on this floor, granted it would be good to wait until the damn crew, who judging by the state of the overlay on the floor tracked in dirt and grim like wet dogs, was gone. The fourth floor had actually been the first one finished as it had all the skylights and special lighting to be installed. It had two offices a small lounge area near the elevator and stair way, its own small conference area with the rest being open concept, flooded with light.

He had, or rather Cynthia had dimensions for everything and the carpeting for the second and third floors would be laid at the beginning of next week. They were pretty much in the cleanup portion of the project, switch covers being installed, paint touched up, light bulbs installed in fixtures. Cynthia and HD both thought they could start moving equipment and taking some of the furniture already purchased out of storage. HD was confident the final inspection would pass. The outdoor resin furniture in their current break room would end up on the roof and the third floor breakroom had a full kitchen with stainless steel appliances along the walls of one corner, slate flooring, one wall lined with diner booths and room for a few period style tables and chairs still in storage. They had stuck with the ‘Mad Men’ design style throughout despite having the most up to date tech. HD had just snorted and said he remembered the show. The colors ran to gold, grey and navy and the whole building had a decidedly masculine feel. It wasn’t the baths but he could work here.

“Well, boss?” HD said lounging against the frame of the doorway into Brian’s office. It was large; the carpet would be a geometric pattern featuring Mediterranean Blue that Justin had picked. It should go well with the couch he was having reupholstered; Emmett had found it along a fucking awesome desk and sidebar for the far wall.

Brian nodded and asked, “When can we move in?”

“If you don’t want to wait for the inspection on the eleventh you can start moving stuff in on Wednesday once all the carpeting’s down. You think your movers can be trusted if we take up all the overlays or do you want us to leave pathways on each floor to keep them from destroying your pretentious wool carpeting?” HD asked. To be fair the wool carpets were only going in the offices, coordinating polypropylene was used for the corridors and conference rooms. The lobby was tiled and the art department had, in spite of HD’s grumbling, a sprung hard wood flooring system usually reserved for dance floors. But Justin pointed out that artist often stood while working and Brian figured they could move the light tables and workstations off to the side if they had events here.

The men spent some time touching base on some finishing details and other assorted things and Brian was surprised when the crew started to filter out for the day. He figured he spend more time lost in thought than he realized as it was after five. Brian said he expected to need a drink later and asked if Em and HD would be at Woody’s. HD mentioned showing a unit but figured they would be there around ten. HD locked up as they were leaving and Brian headed home.

The morning ‘counseling session’ had more resembled the countless lunch lectures he’d suffered through at various conferences and conventions but he had no idea what the munchers wanted of him in their couples therapy. He’d been doing his damnedest to keep his involvement in their love lives limited to being the father of the kids but he just knew Lindsay was going to try and get him to take sides and wasn’t going to like if that resulted in him not agreeing with her on something. Then there was the fact she hadn’t yet outgrown her opinion that somehow just her being in a relationship made her more of or a better adult than him. Sometimes he figured she never had grown out of that, but that she just had eventually learned to bite her tongue. He’d never pushed before but the fact that he and Justin, once they called off the wedding that wasn’t, had stayed a together, never been monogamy and avoided the dyke drama she and Mel had cycled through negated the concept that they were a couple to her. They probably wouldn’t make it to Babylon once Brian endured the shiksa but they were hitting Woody’s on the way back to the loft.

 


	77. But maybe the rain

The therapist’s office had a fairly comfortable sectional that looked like Ralph Lauren had barfed out the plaid. There was no desk, several cheap Tiffany lamp reproductions and a hideous paisley wingback chair that the therapist sat in. It didn’t look like the dark Gestapo-like office Justin had bitched about to him so he’d have to mention that Todd’s wife had taken his decorating suggestions to heart, regardless of her obvious lack of taste. Lindsay and Mel were eagerly clutching notebooks like pathetic dyke versions of Hermione Granger. Brian had no idea how his being here was going to help the Munchers get their shit together but well, anything for Gus.

“I’m so happy you agreed to join us, Brian,” Lorraine said. “I think that the three of you being committed to maintaining a healthy adult relationship is instrumental for the happiness of all of you.”

He was glad he’d changed into comfortable jeans and a tank top before taking Justin over to babysit. Brian thought about biting his tongue but what the fuck, it was therapy and Justin said sometimes Lorraine needed to be hit over the head with the obvious and he wanted this on the table from the beginning so he said, “Just to be clear, I’m not fucking either of them – ever. So that’s not part of the resolution.”

Mel snorted and Lindsay said, “Brian!”

“What? She can only help you with what you tell her and letting her make assumptions is guaranteed to backfire, we don’t fit the norm, for well, anything,” he said with a wave of his hand.

“I think what the three of you are doing is admirable, it’s obvious that Gus is loved and that his wellbeing is paramount in your lives and I’m sure that the three of you working together will overcome any obstacles in your road, regardless of who is sleeping with whom,” Lorraine said. “That was the purpose of the homework I assigned. Previously Lindsay and Melanie have worked together to uncover their own desires for their relationship as a couple and together I’m hoping tonight we can explore all of your desires regarding your parental relationships with Gus.”

Brian said, “I was just told to come, no one mentioned homework.”

Mel shot Lindsay an exasperated look while Lorraine looked surprised and said, “I’m sorry I asked each of you to write out three things that as parents you felt it was important to convey to children.”

“Brian isn’t-,” and Lindsay cut herself off showing some sense off self-preservation at Brian’s glare.

Mel said, “Brian may not be as involved in the day-to-day care of Gus but neither are we all the time. We have live-in child care and Brian has more than stepped up when we need time alone. Justin has too.”

“Justin isn’t involved in this,” Lindsay said.

Brian addressed Lorraine, “Justin Taylor is my partner; I believe you’ve met. And you’ve experienced him giving you a piece of his mind. So has Lindsay and apparently she’s still smarting. But back to your homework, I don’t really need time, I want my son, or rather both my kids, to know they have value as a person that their thoughts, feelings and desires have merit whether I agree with them or not. I want them to know no matter how angry something they do makes me, I will always love them and that they will never be in danger from me, that I will never hit them or withdraw my love or support simply because I disagree with them, even if they’re straight, even if they’re republicans, I will still love them. And I want to keep them safe from anyone, including the people who love them from hurting them, because I have first-hand experience that dismissiveness or condemnation from family can cut and scar far deeper than anything an enemy or stranger can do.”

That was met with silence; or rather quiet scratching of pen on paper as Lorraine apparently needed to write out goals.

“That’s why you refused a bris,” Mel said.

“I have no problem if you want to take Gus to temple or send him to Hebrew school or raise him in your faith, I just think, permanent body mods should be made by him, when he’s an adult,” Brian said. “I have problems with blindly following anything; my mom used her faith to fuck up her kids – and to justify near criminal abuse. In my mind her standing by and letting it happen is equal to or worse than my old man wailing on me.”

“That will never happen with Gus,” Lindsay said. “You know that don’t you? Mel and I would never-”

“Lindz, no one has a kid with the express intention of abusing it, people fuck up,” Brian said, “I don’t think any of us plan to hurt the kids, but we don’t always watch what we say, none of us have done this before, and sometime the things we do, that to us have nothing to do with Gus, impact him. Lord knows Ron and Nancy did a number on you without ever hitting you. Think of us as the three branches of government, we’re each other checks and balances. Hopefully one of the other two will step in if we’re really screwing up.”

“I took a business trip Brian, you take trips all the time,” Lindsay said.

Brian refused to roll his eyes he wasn’t a teenaged girl but he said, “I haven’t left town since Gus was born without you having a way to get in touch with me or without me returning your voicemails. Your infidelity is between you and Mel. My problem with your little disappearing act is, in light of our therapist’s preference for three reasons is: one, you lied to me and you used Justin as your cover; two, when I asked you to call me regarding Gus you didn’t get back to me for nearly a week and three, you vacillate between marginalizing me as a person and as a parent and then expecting me to be there when you want me to do whatever you want.”

“I do not,” Lindsay said.

Brian gave her a blank look. Mel said nothing but kind of hid a smirk and Lorraine, once she finished writing again said, “Thank you Brian that was very succinct. Lindsay, just like we talked about when you and Melanie were sharing your hopes and goals for your relationship, there is no right or wrong in Brian’s goals for Gus as his parents. Do you have a specific objection to Brian wanting his children to be self-aware and self-determining, unconditionally loved and protected?”

“No; of course not,” Lindsay said

Lorraine asked, “Melanie, do you have any problems with Brian’s goals?”

“No. Brian’s been a great dad. I actually owe you an apology, Brian. I really believed you wouldn’t be. I was afraid you’d use Gus to try and drive a wedge between Lindz and I and you’ve been nothing but supportive, so thank you,” Mel said.

That surprised him, before it had taken years but he and Mel had settled into a comfortable relationship, kind of like most people and their sister-in-law’s but now they had been working together more, especially in regard to Gus. Brian had expected it to be a little better when he stopped pushing her buttons but it helped that he had fifteen years of watching her take care of Gus and occasionally step in if Lindz was pulling some WASPy emotional manipulation on the boy. Brian inclined his head in acknowledgement of the compliment and said, “Thanks. I think that’s been due to effort on both our parts. Mel and I had an antagonistic relationship at first but when Lindz got pregnant we didn’t want her under the emotional strain of our constant bickering and then once Gus was born we’ve both made an effort to see that we didn’t marginalize each other in Gus’ life.”

“And you’ve both ganged up on me,” Lindsay said.

“We have not,” Mel said.

And Brian thought fuck it and did roll his eyes before saying, “No, Lindsay, what’s driving you crazy is you’ve enjoyed us fighting. You were in the middle and it was all about you. You’re pissed that our son is upstaging you.”

“How dare you,” Lindsay, tossing her notebook onto her seat as she stood up. Mel’s mouth had dropped open while Lorraine scribbled away on her steno pad.

“Lindz, sit down and stop being a drama queen. You asked me to be here. Was I supposed to lie for you? Was I supposed to sit here and agree with whatever you say? I get that you haven’t realized that giving birth didn’t give you some feminine superpower or make you an all-knowing, all-wise mother goddess but you’re here so you must want to work something out,” Brian said. “I don’t like talking about my feelings, but I’ll do it if it’s in Gus’ best interest. So sit down, this is part of working it out.”

“I don’t think I’m all-wise, but I am Gus’ mother. I love him. I want what’s best for him,” Lindsay said.

Brian made an effort to keep his voice low, in the soothing tone he often used in making pitches and said, “We. We all love him. We all want what’s best for him. This is for life. More than any drippy romantic true love crap, having a kid is for the rest of our lives. It’s not a playground game that you can take your ball and go home when it doesn’t go your way. Gus is here, now, living in the world with us. No one owns him. He is not an extension of you. He’s his own person. I get that as a man I can never hope to understand the magical unicorn-farting-rainbows experience of having life come to being inside you, feeding off of you, grow - and frankly to me, that sounds a lot like cancer. But maybe because I can’t experience the holy mother goddess thing, Gus came into being as a whole person to me, not as an extension of myself. A person who I don’t mystically understand, I have to puzzle him out and try to figure out what he wants,” And Brian was tempted to add ‘more so once he became a teenager’, but held that back, “My wants, my desires for him aren’t automatically the same as his, and I think that now that the umbilical cord’s been cut his needs occasionally might not be the same as yours. When you say ‘I want what’s best for him’ what you mean is ‘what you want, will be what’s best for him whether he likes it or not, whether I like it or not, whether Mel likes it or not’ that flies when he’s still inside you, now that he’s in the world, what’s best for you might not be what’s best for him.”

“Melanie?” Lorraine said, “You’ve been very quiet tonight. Have you felt marginalized as a parent with Gus?”

Mel said, “Well, sometimes. I know my goals with Gus were also my goals with the new baby. I want; regardless of if Lindsay and I work out, or break up, or if we stay together and break up several years down the line; I want our children to realize that we’re, all of us, their family and for them to remain close. Brian told me when Lindsay was hiding out in New York that he didn’t want the kids only knowing each other through him and I agree, I want our kids to be siblings, Lindsay and I chose to have them close together so they would be close.”

“Lindsay, do you have any objection to Melanie’s desire to remain a family even if you don’t remain a couple?” Lorraine said.

Lindsay picked her notebook back up and took her seat and said, “of course not, I want what’s best for Gus, for both the children. I just can’t help feel I’m being punished - that you’re both judging me.”

“We are,” Brian said.

Mel shot him an exasperated look and said, “Speak for yourself.”

“Are you saying her actions had no impact on how you evaluate her as a responsible parent?” Brian asked Mel as Lorraine scribbled away. They had better not end up some kind of case study for her. “Lindz, I gave you the benefit of the doubt, you sold me that you wanted to be a mother and that you were ready to have a kid in your life. I believed you. But less than six months of motherhood had you concocting an elaborate story to get out of town. Fine, other than you using my partner as your cover not a problem, Gus was safe and with people I trust. But Mel wasn’t given a reliable way to get in touch with you, she figured out by Thursday you weren’t doing what you told her and had no idea if you were alive or dead. Both she and I called you, and you called neither of us back. For all you knew Gus had had some form of allergic reaction or was sick or injured or even dead. You were so busy with your clandestine life that if Mel hadn’t tracked you down Saturday morning it would have been almost a week until you called me back. Until she found you in bed with the horny hetero for all I knew you were dead. So yes, I am judging you. You can bang whoever you want, but you have to check your voice mails and call if someone says ‘call back it’s about Gus’, that’s just part of being a parent.”

And it degenerated, Lindsay brought up Brian’s promiscuity. Brian pointed out that monogamy was not some sort of moral high ground that he had never promised anyone to be monogamous and then lied to them and screwed around on them. Mel was cast in the odd role of being peacemaker between the two old friends. Brian pointed out that of all the people to choose to father her child if Lindsay truly believed that only monogamous people could be good parents he would be the last person she’d choose. They had had conflicting viewpoints on this for ten years; it wasn’t like his views on the subject were new. He then added, getting and angry eye roll from Mel that Lindsay experimenting with heterosexuality kind of took her out of the running for good parent if monogamy was a requirement.

Lindsay then dismissed Justin yet again and Brian said, “Lindsay, how long have Justin and I been together?”

“A couple months,” she said with a shrug.

Brian said, “Over six. He is my business partner on three separate companies, we own property together; we’re each other POA, medical proxy and executor of each other’s estates. We’re not monogamous but does it sound like we plan to stay together?”

“Brian, he’s a kid,” Lindsay said and Mel shook her head.

Brian started to respond but Mel said to Lorraine, “out of the four of us sometimes he’s the most mature.”

“Lindz, he’s your boss. And if you weren’t family, he would have fired your ass when you did the ‘Time Magazine’ interview for him without his okay. Justin can be a ballbreaker, especially where his art’s concerned, he wants what he wants and he wants it now. He can get away with that because he is just that good. He hired you because he knew you wanted to work from home and he knows you’re passionate about art. He did it for Gus. But if you keep being disrespectful to him, I’ll fire you,” Brian said.

“Can you do that?” Mel asked.

Brian said, “I’m a full partner in ‘Taylor Art’, normally I just act as his publicist but I do not let people push him around, be it the curators at the venues or the press. This isn’t some rinky-dink gallery in Shadyside; ‘Taylor Art’ has the potential to clear over half a million this year, maybe more. I get that you’re learning on the job, Linz but you’re fucking with something that means a lot to Justin and your attitude about him will get picked up by the people you deal with so get over it, or resign.”

“Brian, Justin is a very talented artist but he’s still only eighteen,” Lindsay said then she sighed and said, “I’ll try.”

“For some reason Justin likes you, but this thing with his age and my sex life and all the other weird ways you use to judge who’s the grown up, is not good for the family. You’re entitled to believe what you want, but our opposing viewpoints about the value of truth verses being polite, the value of sneaking around verses just telling your partner you’re going to hit some hot piece of ass, we can’t let the fact we each think the other is dead wrong impact the kids,” Brian said.

Mel said, “Aren’t we jumping the gun? It’s going to be years before we have to worry about Gus’ sex life.”

“It won’t be long before he’s looking at one of you and asking what a whore is and why you call Daddy that,” Brian said. “If I can promise not to use the term ‘fridge delusional dykes’ around the kids, you guys can wait until they’re at school or out with the nanny to bitch about Justin and I banging take out.”

“You’re tricking with him?” Lindsay said, incredulously.

Mel said, “Lindz, I don’t think that’s the point. Brian I will happily promise not to discuss your sex life with my kids.”

They had to pause and give Lorraine the lowdown on certain terms like tricking, what a back room was, how bath houses worked and that while Justin was exclusively the man Brian slept with he wasn’t exclusively the man Brian fucked. Lorraine was taken back by number of partners Brian and Justin shared but impressed that it was but a fraction of the number Brian had gone through prior to Gus and Justin coming back into his life.

The session actually took two and a half hours instead of the normal fifty minutes luckily the girls were Lorraine’s last appointment on Thursdays. Brian just paid for the extra time as they tried to hash out some unrealistic expectations and come up with a grounded parenting plan. It wasn’t perfect. Lindsay still seemed under the impression that Gus was hers. Brian was wary that if that didn’t change once Gus got to the ‘no’ stage there would be serious trouble. Mel seemed confident that having two kids under two would stop any competition for ‘the first mommy position’ with sheer exhaustion. They even covered concerns for how a new baby may impact Gus and the two warring for attention.

Gus was asleep when they made it back to Chez Muncher and Justin was dozing on the living room couch with the baby monitor clutched in his hand. Brian hardly let Justin wake up enough to WASPily say good night before bundling him out into the Jeep. After the day he’d had he needed a drink.

+

After introducing Ron, Shelley headed down to her place as she had plans for the evening. HD was still showering so Emmett offered to show Ron around the open units. As they were going down the stairs to the fourth floor Ron asked how big Emmett’s unit was.

“Well, its three bedroom, two and a half bath, but it could actually be four bedroom and three bath if we took out HD’s clutter room, which runs behind the bedroom and master, so the same plumbing could be used. None of the other units are like it though,” Emmett said as they rolled back the loft door on one of the fourth floor unit. He continued, “Both of the ones here and on two are pretty similar, only the view out the windows changes, although one of the second floor units is occupied. There all two bedroom, two bath, hook ups and space for a laundry behind the kitchen, but if you just want to use it for storage there’s a laundromat just few blocks down Butler.”

Ron wandered around and seemed impressed. He had three kids and wanted at least a three bedroom so the boys could share and his daughter would have a room to herself. Provided their mother stuck to the shared custody arrangement. So Emmett took him to the large loft on the other half of Shelley’s floor. It was about twice the size of Brian’s and had three bedrooms, and two and a half bath. The baths were smaller and the living and dining areas were smaller than his and HD’s place. It didn’t have the clutter room but it did have the laundry hookups behind the kitchen like all the units. The master bath only had a large shower, but the bath the other two bedrooms shared had a soaker tub and corner shower unit. Like Emmett’s place there were retractable walls that divided the two smaller bedrooms so it could be opened up to one room or opened up to the loft.

In looking it over Ron told him that his ex was in sales and their divorce had been going on since the kids were in grade school, every time they came to an agreement she would take it as a jumping off point to renegotiate the deal. They had wasted over seventy five percent of their net worth and she still was pushing. Although officially divorced now she was pulling shit with the visitation. Their oldest two were sixteen and it had been going on for almost half of their lives. The youngest was ten and couldn’t remember a time when they were even civil to each other. Apparently he was pretty grateful to Kinnetik for hiring him, he had a huge gap in his employment history where he was still being paid by the company he and his wife had built but couldn’t take another job, because she was a bitch who didn’t want him involved in the business but would have called him back in to sabotage his career if he had taken another position. He had intended to use the money she’d bought him out with to buy a place but wanted to get the hell away from her. If you weren’t driving in rush hour it was about twenty minutes on the T to get downtown and he figured his kids could get to him if they needed him.

HD came in and answered questions about the plumbing and electric, storage units he could rent in the basement and if he needed additional parking all the units came with one parking spot on the first floor off the lobby. They talked rent and right of first refusal if the building ever went condo. HD said he’d check the numbers when Ron sounded like he really wanted to buy as opposed to rent.

+

“God, you’re so fucking busy you can’t return a phone call? I’m really sick of you letting it roll to voicemail mister big shot ad exec. Meet me for breakfast at the diner tomorrow.” Michael said. Ending the call he tossed himself onto the Adirondack and looked up in surprise at the sound of David’s huff of laughter.

David said, “Nice message. If that’s typical no wonder he hasn’t called. He must know not to check his voicemail when anyone’s around to hear.” Dave was grilling steaks and Michael had emptied a bag of salad into a bowl. The weather was nice for eating in the backyard and Vic had sent over a cheesecake for dessert. It was only six inches across but had three layers, the top was a fluffy lemon mousse, the center a strawberry swirl and the bottom was milk chocolate. It was Michael’s favorite and he never had been able to follow Vic’s explanation of how he kept the layers from forming one big mess instead of three distinctive bands.

“It’s just Brian. I’ve left messages like that for years,” Michael said, “of course normally he calls back, maybe not from work but by now.” The days were getting longer and it was light until much later than normal but they had gone to a movie and come home, wine and steaks by candlelight on the deck was probably going to get shelved when Hank visited. So would nights out clubbing so Brian was being s dick not calling back. Michael said, “ever since Justin moved in you have to make an appointment or go through him to get Brian alone.”

David tested the steaks and flipped them; Michael watched him and knew he was weighing his words. Why he couldn’t just say what he thought instead of talking around things. He’d talked to his mom about it and she’d said that it probably meant David had a different opinion or thought that what he was going to say might hurt his feelings. He wasn’t a kid, whatever David wanted to say he would listen.

“You know, Michael,” he started and Michael knew his mom had been right but really how could he be defending Brian or his new gatekeeper. “Someone else came into Brian’s life when Justin did, someone he might need to move his schedule for. I know you and Justin don’t get along, but I think some of the changes in Brian you blame on Justin might be the result of him becoming a father.”

“But he’s not a father, Brian was just the sperm donor, Gus is Lindsay and Mel’s kid,” Michael said.

David looked at him, and he hated when he looked at him like that, he always felt like David was regretting his lack of education, or life experience or just general polish. He also looked like he was counting to ten or something before responding and then David said, “I will always be Hank’s dad. That didn’t change when Janet remarried and it won’t change if she gets a divorce and marries someone else. Just because Gus doesn’t live with Brian doesn’t mean he Brian’s not his dad.”

“But, it was different. Brian, when he was thinking it over said all he had to do was jerk off and Lindsay and Mel would take care of everything else,” Michael said, “he never planned to be a parent, never wanted to be one.”

“The idea of having a kid and the reality of having one are two very different things,” Dave said. “I thought I was ready, thought I knew what I was getting into but really when you’re handed that baby, all your expectations don’t prepare you of how everything just shifts. It’s like one of those Magic Eye pictures, you look and look and don’t see anything and then it just shifts and then you can’t un-see the image. Brian seems to go out of his way to make Gus a priority.”

“I just worry that they’re trapping him, the way his mom did his dad and that he won’t like it,” Michael said. “They told him he was just the sperm donor and now he’s babysitting and buying cars with car seats and just changing everything.”

“I think he loves Gus, he might not have planned to or expected it but I think he’ll surprise you,” David said.

+

Justin was still blinking himself awake as they parked on the street a block down from Woody’s. While he got out and fed the meter, Brian said, “God I need a fucking drink.”

It was pretty obvious he wanted a cigarette and a fuck as well; Brian and therapy, not a good combination. Justin held out his hand and said, “Give, I’ll be DD let’s get you laid and drunk.”

“It’s not that bad,” Brian said. “Hell, maybe if more people who were having kids sat down and negotiated it like a contract people would be less fucked up. I just spent over two hours hearing how Lindsay thinks my man-whore ways make me a perpetual child and if she told me you were eighteen one more time I was going to bring up that time we road tripped to the ‘Homocore’ in Chicago and I found her with three butch biker chicks and enough ecstasy to have her lifting her skirt and throwing her prim WASP manners out the window.”

“Why do you never share shit like that with me? And you and Lindsay, punking out in a mosh pit, seriously?” Justin said as they reached the stairs up to Woody’s. Because if there was a story of Lindsay being promiscuous why hadn’t Brian shared it in the years she was being all prim and monogamous-ish, you know if you overlooked her and Mel’s affairs and that time when they split over the desire to move back from Canada.

“I just went along to get laid – and make sure she wasn’t kidnapped by some big dyke pimp - while Lindsay was pretending to be interested in an alternative subculture,” Brian said.

Justin pushed Brian, and he didn’t move in the slightest, God if he didn’t put on some weight soon he was contemplating steroids. Brian hooked Justin’s shoulder, swung him around and dipped him like on the dance floor to the hoots and applause of random fags before kissing him. And there it was, that unguarded grin that meant Brian was shaking off his long day of counseling sessions and all that talk about feelings and was ready to have fun. Fuck school, maybe he could talk Brian into playing hooky tomorrow.

+

Emmett posted the flyer on the bulletin board near the entrance of Woody’s. It was hot pink with bold black writing and just said ‘Lawrenceville loft, two bed/two bath, twenty-eight hundred a month, off street parking viewing by appointment only’ it was his cell number on the tear off tabs at the bottom as it was easier for him to set appointments to show the remaining three units.

HD was at the bar getting them some drinks. His man could make blue jeans and a white tank top out shine any of the glittery dance clothes all the club boys were sporting. Emmett had paired dark purple leather pants with a silver mesh sleeveless pullover, mostly to keep himself from wearing them Saturday night when they went out with Jud. His brother had gotten a look at some of his clubbing clothes when he stayed with them and nearly swallowed his tongue. It was tempting to try and shock him, but wearing drag to the ‘Blue Collar Comedy Tour’ was probably asking for trouble no matter how willing HD was to hit a homophobe.

HD slipped beside him and snaked an arm around to hand him his cosmos. Emmett stepped into his embrace, sliding his free hand into HD’s back pocket. He’d finally broken HD of the habit of shoving his wallet back there. An ass like that deserved to be admired and a wallet ruined the view.

Brian and Justin came in the door, Brian’s arm slung casually over Justin’s shoulders as he was murmuring something in Justin’s ear that had Justin grinning wide and bright. With the wicked smile gracing Brian’s face they both looked like teenagers. Justin really was a marvel. He’d worked wonders relaxing Brian and lowering his defenses.

Watching how Justin had been there for Brian throughout all the drama of Brian’s dad’s funeral and how Brian was standing by Justin with all this awful mess from the prom, Emmett really didn’t get what Michael’s problem was. It wasn’t just an only child who didn’t know how to share, Michael really didn’t seem to like Justin and often gave the impression that he was trying to ignore the fact Justin was now a part of Brian’s life. Emmett thought maybe he should talk to Vic, Michael might actually listen to him since he was kind of part of the inner sanctum or whatever you called the chosen few who were privy to Brian and Mikey the early years.

Because this, this teasing display of kisses or dare he say flirting that they didn’t just do but Brian let people see them do, this was an amazing gift. Brian pulling Justin closer even when it wasn’t dancing or a quick fuck in the bathroom or back room; the PDAs, kissing, pulling him flush against his body as they leaned into the bar to order, nuzzling Justin’s neck while he chatted with Avery the bartender; this was what made Michael crazy; or crazier. Brian, who often fucked like he was on his way to the gas chamber, actually gave Justin the kind of romance a kid at eighteen would want. Gifted him with the kind of displaces that Brian would have sneered at before they met, not so much because it was natural for him but because Justin deserved to bask in the envy of the pulsing throngs of the club scene.

Michael had no problem with Brian fucking but up until Justin there wasn’t anyone Brian showed any kind of affection to but Michael. Ted might have bought Michael’s claims that Brian didn’t fuck tricks twice or maybe not, Teddy rarely corrected Michael’s assumptions about Brian or well anything, or if he did it was so dry and sardonic that Michael missed it completely. But Emmett knew Brian had regulars, hot hook ups that could be called in for a fast fuck or group sex. Michael thought orgies just happened the way he thought you could just have a birthday party by having everyone show up at a funeral home with nothing but cake and balloons. You couldn’t post an ad online and have the quality of tricks show up that Brian would agree to host, it didn’t work that way. Brian’s call list showed he’d put effort into screening out anything below an eight. And Justin had when they were working on the fundraiser let something called ‘the take out menu’ slip. He’d quickly changed the subject because the girls were around but the grin and wink had told Emmett that the reason Brian and he weren’t at Babylon as much was because they were tricking at home.

Well it was nice some of the old gang still went clubbing on weeknights. Michael had just been complaining when he called that day to bitch about Brian not calling him that they hadn’t hit Babylon much as a group. Emmett had explained about the seminar that morning but got the feeling Michael had tuned it out like he did so many things he wasn’t directly involved in. It never even occurred to Michael that the dear boy who had been assaulted could be causing Brian any trauma. Brian had been the adult and even Sep had said she figured if they hadn’t been having such trouble at school over the alliance Brian would have packed Justin out of town for the holiday weekend. Judging by the tale of how quickly all the parents had been notified Emmett had to agree Brian had probably attended more in the role of bodyguard rather then romantic male lead.

HD waived Brian and Justin over and asked if they wanted to head over to the dance club once all of them finished their drinks. The inquiry was met with an emphatic ‘hell, yeah’ from both of them. Justin then proceeded to spill, much to Brian’s annoyance, that Brian had been dragged to couples counseling with Lindsay and Mel. But Brian did respond to Emmett’s inquiry that the girls were doing pretty well and seemed to be working out their problems.

+

The next morning, Brian strolled into the diner to see Mikey waiving from a booth. Thank God there was a full cup of coffee waiting. Justin had given him a stellar blow job trying to get Brian to stay with him as he contemplated skipping school again but it was Friday and Justin only had a half day so Brian was getting into the office for at least a few hours. September had called for a ride since her dad was in town so she didn’t have a car and Justin had conceded defeat. Apparently she was having PIFA problems regarding the school picnic next week and needed Justin for girl talk so he was off to pick her up.

“Hey stranger, I never see you anymore,” Michael greeted him.

Brian slide into the booth and drawled, “Well I don’t make it out to the burbs often.”

“Ha, ha, it’s hardly the burbs, you don’t even have to cross a bridge or go through a tunnel,” Michael said.

Brian deflected and said, “When’s the rugrat get here?” Nodding to Kiki who took his order and moved on, Brian dumped sugar in his cup.

“On the thirteenth, David’s taking a couple days off until the summer program starts the following Monday,” Michael said.

Brian said, “You should try and get a day off maybe take him to ‘Sandcastles’ or ‘Kennywood’.”

“I don’t know,” Michael said, “David may want to spend some time, just the two of them.”

Brian shrugged and asked if they were what they were planning to do with the kid for Pride since there would be various events from the eighth to the seventeenth. Granted some were just flesh pressing opportunities for local and state officials to kiss up to special interest groups. The A-gays had a couple house parties planned where social climbers could pay a fee to feel like they belonged which supposedly raised money for charities in the community. Vic had mentioned that having straight high school kids show them up on the fundraising for the cookie sales had quite a few sponsoring events to raise funds for Liberty House. The GLC was hosting the kickoff on the eighth a Shabbat with lectures and speakers angling to get the gay voice heard. The Parade’s was on the sixteenth with a candlelight vigil on the seventeenth.

“Well he’s just a kid,” Michael said and Brian figured his own look spoke volumes because Michael continued, “yeah, I was there with mom as an ally at that age but I don’t know how Hank’s mom would feel about it.”

“I’m willing to bet she’s figured out Dave’s gay, and it’s a fucking parade, Mikey,” Brian said.

“With men in assless chaps,” Michael said.

Brian gulped coffee and said, “It’s like you’ve been brainwashed by ‘Nick at Nite’, you realize this kid’s from fucking Portland, has access to the internet and is ten not two right? He didn’t just step off the screen from ‘Pleasantville’.”

Brian watched as Michael got that frustrated look on his face that usually only came out when people who didn’t have his in-depth knowledge of ‘Captain Astro’ tried to argue plot points or symbolic meaning behind the comic. He had no idea where this prudish streak was coming from, sure Mikey hadn’t warmed up to the littlest hustler without Ben stepping in and reasoning it out for him but he’d even spoken out after the bombing regarding drag queens and leather daddies on television. But this was a Michael who’d never marched in Pride, not spent years with an intellectual who’d made a career out of analyzing the literary soul of the gay community. Sure the first time he’d been with Dave he’d been ashamed of his friends and family but that was typical nouveau riche wanting to hide their humble roots and not a political or social statement. And last time, by Pride he and Dave had split but now everything seemed swell.

Kiki delivered Brian’s order, he was probably going to be late but only Cynthia would know he didn’t have a business breakfast scheduled and he was the boss so what the fuck. Once Kiki left Michael said, “I called you a couple times yesterday and you didn’t call me back.”

“I’ve officially erased yesterday from my memories, the dykes took me to couple’s counseling,” he said.

Michael’s mouth dropped open and he said, “And you went?”

“They’re the mothers of my kids so yeah I spent over two hours talking about my feelings, after spending the morning with outraged parents in a seminar with how to deal with post-traumatic stress disorder,” Brian said. “Best day ever.”

+

Sep was waiting on the curb with two Starbuck’s venti cups and a ‘McDonald’s bag. She slid and said, “Black right? You want with or without ketchup?

“Black and no ketchup, you’re worse than Brian, what is it?” Justin asked.

“Sausage McMuffin with cheese,” she said , “Say hello to cardiovascular disease.”

Justin took the cup, sipped and at the next light sat it in his cup holder and unwrapped the sandwich and asked, “What happened with your PIFA?”

“Can you please call him Ethan and not my PIFA? He wants to come to the school picnic,” she said.

Justin swallowed his mouth fuel of flavored cholesteryl and said, “Yeah? So? He’s your boyfriend.”

“It’s supposed to be just us, the gang, you’re not even bringing Brian,” Sep said.

Justin said, “Because he’s thirty and would sooner contemplate rectal surgery than spend the day at Kennywood with sugared up teenagers.”

“He came to prom!” she said.

Justin took another bite just before the light changed set the sandwich down and eased forward to get in line for the left turn lane at the next light. Once he chewed and swallowed he said, “He came to call the cops, post bail and to keep us out of trouble, he’s feeling pretty guilty that despite all his paranoid prep Niles still got injured.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Sep said and then said, “Daddy and Mr. Payne are filing a suit against St. James and they’ve said they don’t want Hobbs let back in school. Apparently Hunt is trying to say he has a right to his education but Daddy – I told him about how Hunt suspended you and how you keep getting pulled in to the office regarding attendance and your right to an education – Daddy said he wanted a board meeting and Mr. Payne is having all the parents notified so they can come, like every parent of every kid in St. James, not just the high school but the junior school too.”

“When is it? Can we go?” Justin said.

Sep said, “Next Thursday at six, I’m going. I’m filming it this time openly, I have a new camera; can you work the old one I want to try editing the shots, from different angles.”

“Don’t you need special equipment for that?” Justin asked.

Sep shrugged and said, “I’ll look into it, have Daddy buy it or maybe use it at one of the colleges. Oh! I’m going to CMU, officially I’m undecided, but I was checking out their Fall course descriptions and I think, other than the normal liberal arts distribution, I’m going to check out some film study classes. I have this friend in advertising, who might need someone to shoot some commercials and junk.”

Justin shot her a grin and laughed because yeah, Sep in Hollywood would be hilarious. So he asked, “Does that mean you and Trace will be taking your dads up on their condo offer?”

“I don’t know, Tracy has her heart set on the real college experience, she wants to gain the freshman ten, use coin operated washers and catch athletes feet in the showers,” Sep said.

Justin said, “She can do that in a week, why suffer the whole year, take the condo and have her visit some poor slob stuck in the dorms.”

“If I pitch it that way it might work,” Sep said. “What do I do with Ethan? I like the attention but he’s horning in on my friend stuff.”

Justin bit his lip and said, “No idea. I like it when Brian crashes our stuff. Maybe take it as a sign that while you find him entertaining, you don’t want him forever, just when convenient.”

Sep sighed and nodded but said, “I hate being single while Trace is dating.”

“Then hang on to him for the summer, since Paul will be heading to Ohio, or dump him and jump Mike,” Justin said.

Sep said, “Mike? Our Mike?”

“What? He’s marginally hot for a straight boy? And if you’re honest with him and just say you don’t want to be a third wheel, he should relate since he’s probably in the same boat. He’s also the kind of guy you could say ‘hey lets figure out this sex thing and what we like before we head off to college’ and he’d be willing to accommodate you. Just don’t lead him on, I kind of like the guy, even before he concussed Hobbs,” Justin said.

Sep smiled, “that was pretty awesome. But I’m still not sure I’m ready for sex.”

“It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, just set ground rules. Ask him how he feels about trying oral, if you find a teenaged boy who’ll turn down a blow job from a hot blonde, he’s gay,” Justin said.

Sep said, “Didn’t you go from zero to off the chart when you dove into the sexual ocean?”

“It’s not a competition, whatever feels right for you, but remember to play safe,” Justin said.

Tina Myerson and six other kids from Advanced Calc were waiting at their window when Justin and Sep were ushered into school by Mon and Britt. Daphne had been debriefing them apparently. Despite the story of prom having run rampant through the school at the beginning of the week this was the first anyone outside of the alliance had come to Justin for confirmation of what was going on.

“Did you give my name to the cops?” Tina said.

Justin said, “I didn’t lie to cover for Dixon and when the cops asked I implied it was highly unlikely the rest of the student body would lie to cover up his inexcusable behavior in regard to how he handled Hobbs repeated abuse, assault and occasional battery of Niles. Was I wrong? Do you intend to participate in the cover up Mr. Hunt and the school are perpetrating in regard to the ongoing harassment of Niles?”

Tina stepped back blinking, whether it was from the hostile tone Justin had used or the fact that Sep was once again filming a confrontation Justin didn’t know. Tina was one of the few students that had ever spoke out to Hobbs regarding his unacceptable behavior and Justin had not been expecting her hostility.

He took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry. That was. That was out of line. Niles is doing better according to what his mom told me but until he’s awake, until I’ve spoken to him myself and can assess if his life is going to be irrevocably altered by some physical or mental incapacitation as a result of Hobbs attempting to murder him I’m still angry and I shouldn’t take it out on you Tina. I remember you speaking up, trying to stop Hobbs. That’s more than most people did. More than the staff did and your one of the last people I should take my anger out on.”

Tina looked down and brought her hands up to her face. She took a shuddering breath and sobbed. She was a quiet crier and when she lifted her face the tear dripped but after she visibly clenched her jaw, teeth grinding she shook her head as if to shake away the tears and said, “I backed down. As soon as my grade was threatened, as soon as I realized it could be me, that I could be the one that was targeted, I stepped back and kept my head down and let it happen.”

“You tried, that’s more than anyone else did,” Justin started.

Tina cut in, “not you, not Chanders, neither of you let him get away with it. You pushed.”

“And for all we know our pushing is what sent the fucking lunatic over the edge,” Daphne said, and Justin pulled her into his side, wrapping and arm around her. “You know where we spent skip day? Not at the mall, not road tripping or at a house party, we were in counseling for PTSD, because we all blame ourselves and we all want to be able to help Niles in his recovery.”

“There’s an emergency board meeting next Thursday. Mon, you make up some flyers with details and I think we have people here who will help us pass them out. They’re going to have to hold it in the auditorium we’re going to see that everyone comes, students, parents, and any government officials we can get,” Sep said.

+

By Friday night it was Justin who desperately needed to go out. Brian offered to be designated and while Justin had three fingers of bourbon before going straight to Babylon. Once there he stuck to water. It was a salute to the Seventies and all the old line dances like the Madison and various hustles were being broken out by some of the older crowd the tribute had pulled in while most of the regulars just did freeform while watching. Vic was there in one of his loud Hawaii shirts and Michael and Dave showed up.

Brian shocked most of his fans by dragging Justin out for a Latin variation on the hustle that shocked the shit out of Michael and had Vic and Emmett cheering from the sidelines. Given here in Brian’s kingdom he was known for at best a sexy sway before he pulled some lucky trick into the backroom Justin figured they had just gone down in Babylon history far more profoundly than him winning a paper crown.

It was a banner night for not having made any arrangements beforehand, at least to Justin’s knowledge because Ted showed up with Kevin even Wade stopped by to say hi. It was the first time Justin had seen him there when he wasn’t working security but he did still have friends on staff. It was after three when they got home and far too early when Brian’s phone had him rolling out of bed.

Justin tried to fall back asleep but even though Brian had slipped out over to his office area while on the call Justin could tell something was up. So after ten unfruitful minutes of trying to go back to sleep, he sighed and rolled out of bed.

“Fucking lesbians,” Brian said and tossed his phone. Justin, who had just stumbled to the coffee maker, shot him a concerned look because as far as he knew Brian liked his new phone. He obviously didn’t like the conversation he just had because Rage was glaring out of Brian’s expressive eyes. Justin said, “What’s up?”

“You know how lesbians don’t take birth control pills?” Brian said.

Justin froze, because seriously what the actual fuck. That wasn’t a non sequitur and there were only two lesbians who fertility was any concern of his or Brian’s. Mel was already pregnant so he finally gasped out, “Lindsay?”

Brian nodded and said, “Weeping and wailing. Am I really that different? There was a time when no one would even consider confiding in me and turning to me to be fucking understanding.”

“Has she told Mel?” Justin asked.

Brian ranted in falsetto, “She doesn’t know if she should. She’d thinking of getting rid of it. She’s debating if she should tell Sam.”

“Jesus. Brian just so you know; if you ever get knocked up and tell anyone, before me, giving birth will be the least of your problems,” Justin said.

Brian lost his angry look with a muffled snort and said, “I think that’s a promise I can keep.”

“How did she get pregnant?” Justin asked, filling a coffee mug.

Brian gave him a look that doubted his SAT score and Justin added, “I get she had sex with him, but seriously.”

“Breeders are notoriously inept at using condoms,” Brian said. “Hell half the fucking population of this country is the result of breeders thinking a condom will prevent pregnancy.”

“Brian,” Justin said after downing half the mug, “If she could catch pregnancy from this guy, given his rep.”

“Fuck,” Brian picked up his phone and glared at it. But as if realizing that this probably wasn’t something he should just call and ask he started to get dressed.

“Want me to come with you?” Justin said.

Brian sighed and said, “Think I might have to do this by myself. Wish me luck?”

Great start to the weekend Justin thought. He deliberately did not hit WebMD to find out all the STDs that could be passed through breastmilk or were not able to be treated in pregnant women. All five of them including Gus and the apparently two new kids could be infected and he just refused to borrow trouble until they knew for sure.

+

Mel left Lindsay downstairs. Gus was waking up according to the monitor and although Lindsay had tried to use him as an excuse to get out of the awkwardness of her big reveal Mel had said, “No. You have some thinking to do. I’ll take care of my son.”

That had felt good. Now Lindsay could see how it felt every time she called Gus her son as if Mel wasn’t just as much his mother. It was a shame it had to be Brian pointing that out to Lindz. Mel had expected from even before Lindsay had conceived to be treated by Brian at least as some hanger on who wasn’t a part of the perfect family he and Lindsay could be. She hadn’t expected it from Lindsay though, the whole ‘it’s a thing only a mother would understand’ vibe she’d put out had gotten real old, real fast. Brian could be a total bastard but some of the things he’d said with Lorraine were the kind of truths that needed to be said. Not that Mel had ever needed a man to hide behind but Brian saying them and taking the heat from Lindsay had helped. She really didn’t need Lindsay laying the guilt on her, not now. She ran a hand over her own non-existent baby bump and stepped up to the crib to smile down as Gus chattered away to himself.

She was his mom, regardless of if she had given birth to him or not. Brian had leaned on that, with the custody agreement, with his own words and most especially when Lindsay had taken off. So yeah, what they all agreed to both before and after this fucking train wreck had been to be a family and if Lindsay tried to shut her out, oddly enough she had faith that Brian wouldn’t let her. Not because they liked each other or were friends, but because in Brian’s eyes she was just as much Gus’ mom as Lindsay and he trusted her, maybe more than Lindz not because of the infidelity but because she kept him in the loop about Gus and Lindsay had not.

+

When Brian arrived at Chez Muncher, fortunately Mel was upstairs with the baby when he tapped on the back door and Lindsay let him into the kitchen. She poured him a glass of iced tea and gestured for him to be seated at the kitchen table. She was surprised he’d just shown up and said so, without sitting Brian said, “Justin had a thought about your little problem.”

“Brian. I would appreciate if you hadn’t discussed this with Justin,” Lindsay said, she was in prim and proper WASPmode and was folding her hands on the table top.

Brian glared at the chair she’d indicated he should sit on and then glared at her and said, “You’ve been doing such a stellar job fucking up your own relationship. How about you let me decide what I chose to share with my lover.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you Brian. I confided in you in confidence as a friend,” Lindsay said.

Brian walked over and stood behind the chair and took a sip of iced tea and then set the glass back on the table, and then leaned both hands on the kitchen table and said, “You owe me no explanation regarding your sex life, or your relationship with Mel, or any random man or woman you choose to share any consensual act with. I am, however, Gus’ father. If, for instance, you’re choosing to break up his home or even considering taking my son to live in whatever rat hole that fat hairy artist keeps his bit on the side in, you have another think and then you review the custody agreement we all signed.”

“I would never-” Lindsay started.

Brian cut in softly, “Don’t. Don’t expect me to buy it. You dove in head first to play the mommy game and once it became routine, once you weren’t center stage, when dirty diapers and being tied to a baby monitor didn’t earn you praise from Daddy or a fucking award as dyke of the year you bailed on our kid to go get some attention from some father substitute. You have spent the past six years acting as if getting eaten by Mel somehow gave you the moral high ground over me coring the better looking half of gay Pittsburgh. ‘Oh Brian grow up’, well I can grow up and still have sex. I am a grownup it means I don’t lie to my partner, I don’t-”

“She told me,” Mel said quietly from the doorway to the kitchen. She must have come down while they were fighting. “And, while this is pretty much the most surreal experience I’ve ever had, coming in to find you actually sticking up for me, Lindsay and I have discussed this. I’m going to support her, whatever she decides. I would appreciate you not yelling at Lindsay.”

Lindsay of course was in tears and it was all Brian could do not to grab her and shake her until her teeth rattled around in her skull. He walked away; literally. Okay it was only two fucking steps but it got her out of arms reach and he was now in danger of breaking his hand by punching a wall. Only the fact he had done that before the fucking reset and it hurt and his index finger had never quite healed right prevented him from putting his fist into the plaster.

Mel chose the exact worst time to come back. She looked at Lindsay in tears and him vibrating with rage and stepped up to defend her honey without once thinking Lindsay might be the one that needed yelled at. And maybe that was at is should be, if they were going to stick together they should fucking stick together, but Christ. Now he wanted to throttle both of them. Was he the only one in the fucking room with half a brain?

“Brian,” Mel started, “Lindsay is just informing you; as a courtesy. I know you feel strongly about this but it’s her decision”

“You think I’m pissed she talking abortion?” Brian rounded on Mel and while a little voice in the back of his head, that sounded, of course, like Justin, said, ‘don’t scream at the pregnant woman’ the bigger, much louder, voice that sounded like him, or maybe Rage was drowning it out with ‘fucking dykes and their fucking alleged monogamy’. “Melanie,” he started in an eerie calm voice, “has it filtered through the glow of Sapphic love that seems to be blanketing your intelligence that pregnancy isn’t the only sexually transmitted disease passed between men and women and that Little Miss Lack of Birth Control here had unprotected sex with a man whore and I can only assume has been going down on you to share the love so to speak with both you and our baby. Oh, and sharing through her breastmilk with Gus.”

The color drained from Mel’s face and Brian actually stepped up and guided her to the chair Lindsay had wanted him to take, before she fainted, because no, it obviously hadn’t fucking occurred to her. Or Lindsay, judging by the way she was trembling and covering her open mouth with her hand.

“Okay,” Brian said, “I assume this little news item is the result of a home pregnancy test?” At Lindsay’s nod, he added, “You both get tested. Today, now, if possible and Mel you make an appointment to see your baby doc. Jesus, neither of you are in any shape to drive, I’ll grab Gus we’ll make it a fucking family outing, surely he can get a blood draw too. Chop, Chop Lindz, I’ll get the kid.”

They did not head to the clinic on Liberty but to the one in Fox Chapel. It was the one Justin and his little friends hit once a month with over-privileged teens to teach them sex had consequences even if it was Twu Luv. So that lab was pretty much used to group draws, whether that was due to Justin and company or if other fags brought in their dykes and offspring Brian didn’t care to guess.

There were reams of forms to sign so everyone could have access to the results and Mel had grabbed a bill from the OBGYN to have the results sent to that office as well. Lindsay was shaking the whole time and Brian had to hold Gus because he was afraid she’s squeeze him to death. It seemed it was just hitting her that keeping the appearance of monogamy while enabling her to look down on those who didn’t, in no way protected the baby or babies from her actions. Her decisions were not just impacting her or her and Mel but the whole family.

The clinic was concerned about Mel’s blood pressure which was sky high. Brian thought about pointing out so was his and that under certain circumstances you blood pressure was supposed to rise – like fear and rage, but he kept quiet. He tried to hide his anger because as a dyke Lindsay should not assume that she was immune to diseases the way she should have been immune to unplanned pregnancies.

Sometimes he really hated straight people. Straight guys just did not get tested routinely the way gay men did. Most didn’t even get tested unless someone they’d been with called them with a little bad news. Straight women were idiots for sleeping with them without insisting they get tested first, especially considering their ineptitude with condoms.

Gus did not like the blood draw but was soon distracted by the standing game with daddy. While Lindsay and Mel were whispering or hissing back and forth Brian crooned out, “First visit to the clinic, Sonny Boy, sure won’t be your last. Your old man might not know much about baseball, but for safe sex, I’m there for you.”

“Brian!” Lindsay said, “He’s six months.”

“If this is a false alarm,” Mel said, “can we wait until he’s hit double digits before giving him the sex talk?”

“As long as we don’t tell him that he’ll be safe if he just doesn’t talk about it or that true love is a great substitute for condoms,” Brian drawled.

“We used condoms,” Lindsay said. “I would never have risked-”

“Lindz, used correctly, condoms have the same odds of preventing disease as they have of preventing pregnancy. You want to take a guess at how many kids born each year are a surprise? And that’s not counting the abortion rate,” Brian said. “I’d put money on the fact your married horny hetero hasn’t screened unless one of his side pieces called him to tell him she gave him something.”

Brian routed though the diaper bag and as he found a bottle asked, “Is this formula?”

“Yes,” Mel said, “Lindsay was producing less milk. Even before her trip we’ve moved Gus almost all to formula.”

“I tried to breastfeed when I got back but he prefers a bottle,” Lindsay said. “I don’t know if I even produced enough for him to be exposed to anything.”

“I’m so fucking glad I’m queer, women are gross,” Brian said, just as the clinic worker, whatever her qualifications, came back in.

She gave Brian a stern look but it softened as Gus reached for his daddy’s hair. She said, “I’ve put a rush on the labs and have them sending the results right to your doctor as well. I really hope this all works out for you; I know this has to be a very emotional time especially with the babies being involved.” That said she returned Brian’s credit card and had him sign for the payment.

So they were back in the Jeep with Mel riding in the back with Gus and Lindsay shotgun. Did he say Thursday was the best day ever? He still had a date to that fucking redneck comedy thing with straight people to look forward to tonight.

 


	78. Isn't really to blame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t tell you how nice it was to be missed. I’m so sorry – first the holidays then I just got lazy and then I upgraded to Windows whatever and lost all my passwords and had to figure out what email things were hooked up to – it was not pretty. 
> 
> Seriously if you have not yet done the free upgrade – don’t. My ‘writing process’ involves having several browser windows open – to calendars or maps (the two things I feel the creators of QAF US needed most) and I usually have several Word docs open when I right (the story alone covers three and I have one of a timeline, a couple on the research I’ve done on the period (things have changed since 2001 a good bit) and another on the characters, my take on them and where the narrative is to go with most of them and every time I walk away from my computer long enough for it to go into sleep mode it all shuts down) The browser windows are easy to retrieve but the Word doc are all stuck in auto save and it’s just a bear to reopen and make sure I haven’t lost stuff)
> 
> I may have a job soon (keep your fingers crossed and send me positive energy or some such new age crap because forget the financial drain, I’m starting to talk to furniture here) so my update schedule may be down to every other week if that goes through but I have most of the OMT summer of 2001 plotted out so this story is not dead – still don’t know if I will do all five/fifteen years but know it will go at the very least until 2002 because I want to wrap up the plot point with the munchers and have a set time frame.
> 
> Thanks so much for your patience and words of encouragement. So much for my resolution not to clutter this story up with notes.

After Brian left, Justin thought about going back to bed but instead showered and dressed. He checked his email and confirmed with the printers to have the short run of lithographs for the splash page delivered to Kinnetik knowing that Cynthia would sign for the delivery and he could then get them at his convenience. Wrapping them, however, since they were two foot by three foot landscape without the frame, would probably take almost a whole standard roll of wrapping paper. The printer had framed them with a generic poster board backing and covered them in clear plastic much like they sold his other work, because it would be safer to move and store them this way even if it made wrapping a bear. Justin called the art supply store and asked to have a two hundred foot roll of forty eight inch wide butcher paper for just over fifty bucks set aside for him and figured it would have to do. Brian might tease him about his penny pinching ways but he was not shelling out a mint on paper that would just end up thrown away. As he was making the arrangements for them to hold it the buzzer rang on the door.

Ending the call as he checked the monitor he saw Michael waiting outside. He buzzed him up without bothering to speak though the intercom. Justin opened the door a couple inches and went over to check if there was enough coffee left for two.

Michael came in saying, “I tried my key but it doesn’t – where’s Brian?”

“He’s out. Would you like some coffee?” Justin asked.

Michael said, “No, thanks. It’s barely nine o’clock, why isn’t he here.”

“I can make you tea, or I have hot chocolate or would you prefer something cooler like water or juice?” Justin offered.

Michael looked around like Brian might step out of a closet or something and said, “No thanks, I’m fine. His car is out front.”

“He took mine. I was just going to make something to eat, would you like a Cuban?” Justin asked.

Michael said, “Like a cigar?”

“It’s a pressed ham and cheese or I could make an omelet?” Justin said as he started pulling out a jar of roasted red peppers and some ham and Swiss.

Michael said, “No, I don’t want anything, I wanted to talk to Brian.”

“Brian’s not here. Can I help you?” Justin said.

Michael said, “Maybe I can leave him a note, he hasn’t returned my calls.”

“Since last night? When did you call him? It was after two when we left Babylon,” Justin asked as he started heating a pan and assembling a sandwich. Michael and David had left much earlier but when exactly would Michael have called? Surely not before nine on a Saturday, not unless someone died or you know, was pregnant with the child of the man they had an affair with. As Justin looked up to see Michael watching him he added, “you could text him, that’s kind of like leaving a note only it goes to where he is instead of staying here - where he isn’t.”

Michael asked, “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Sorry,” Justin said with a shake of his head. “I’ll let him know you’re looking for him but I’ll probably be gone by the time he gets back.” There was no way he was sending Michael harrowing off to Lindsay’s at nine thirty on a Saturday when they were having a pregnancy/STD crisis. Justin kept having to remind himself that he and Michael were almost the same age because if one of them was acting like a petulant teenager it sure as hell wasn’t the one trapped in an eighteen year old body. Which was weird because he spend all day almost every day with hormonal drama-addicted teens and they all had better manners than Michael.

Michael said, “You and Brian are always together; where are you going without him?”

“A friend is in the hospital and I’m going to see him and I go to school and work at my studio and Brian goes to work and entertains clients. We don’t see nearly as much of each other as we’d like to. That’s just part of being grown up; you don’t get to do what you want to when you want to all the time. I can’t wait for school to be out,” Justin said, “maybe we’ll get to spend some time together. We’re hoping to get to New York for a couple days after my next opening.”

Michael opened his mouth, closed it, looked frustrated and said, “Just tell him I stopped by, will you?”

“Sure,” Justin said and gave kind of a wave as Michael swept out of the loft in a huff. Nothing like baffling him with WASPy manners; at least he’d distracted him from the thing with his key. Justin was sure he heard Brian mention the new security system to Michael after the monitor was installed but it wasn’t his job to break the news to Michael that he couldn’t just waltz in anymore. And he managed to stop Michael from prying into what was up with Brian being out early on a Saturday when they’d been out late Friday. Best friend or not this was Lindsay’s mess and not something to be bandied about among a bunch of gossipy queens. He texted Brian that Michael had stopped by and mentioned he was going to swing by the hospital with Daphne in case Brian had forgotten.

+

Mel watched Brian check a text on his phone with one hand while keeping Gus safe in his lap with the other. He seemed an old hand at navigating life with a small living being clinging to him. A typical disheveled dad, maybe even a bit more involved than most breeders. Straight guys, at least some of them, put up with the demands of the kids to keep the wife happy, Brian put up with the, well certainly not a wife or wives but emotional, dare she say moist, females to keep the kid happy.

She glanced at Lindsay who was putting up her cool façade over white lipped shame. Sure they both saw their gyno once a year and there were inevitable yeast infections but until Lindsay got pregnant, Mel couldn’t remember if she’d ever mentioned having disease screenings. They were in a demographic perhaps least likely except for celibate people to catch anything; but still, surely she had a screening outside of her yearly visit at least once. Honestly, knowing Lindsay the way she did Mel wondered which would be worse in her mind, having something, or having people find out she had something. The answer would be easy for something incurable, some strands of hepatitis or HIV, but even something treatable would assault the delusion she seemed to hold that things like that didn’t happen to people like them.

Mel couldn’t help compare Brian’s reaction to this, which now that he had them rounded up and waiting for family fun at the clinic seemed to be resigned acceptance, to what Lindsay’s would have been. If Brian had shown up and said that someone he’d been with had something and they all needed to get tested because he might have exposed them somehow, Lindsay would have still been ranting. She’d probably have tried to ban Brian for life from seeing Gus, saying his lack of proper precautions proved he was unfit. Of course given he wasn’t sexually involved with either of them, and didn’t breast feed the exposure he presented to anything was low. And to be honest, before Lindsay had run off and Brian had stepped up and been a father and well, yeah, a friend, Mel would have been right there with her. But when it was Lindsay endangering them all she’d become sullenly defensive when her initial terror wasn’t washing over her.

Brian had quoted odds and stated they shouldn’t borrow trouble. He kept Gus quietly amused as they waited their turn. Brian and she had never really hung out together over the years until Lindsay’s lost week, at least not when they weren’t both sparring verbally. Now that they didn’t seem to be fighting over Lindsay and worked more together, at least since Gus was born, she found him intelligent, decisive and a creative thinker. Irritating as hell when he disagreed with her but a good guy to have in your corner at times like this. If it had just been Lindsay and her, she’d have been fretting until Monday and then until whenever her doctor could see her. Brian had dragged them in and even if it would still be days until they found out one way or the other, at least it felt like they were doing something.

“I’m so sorry,” Lindsay said softly. “I didn’t…”

“Think?” Mel said.

Brian snorted at that but got up and carried Gus over to look at a colorful poster on the other side of the waiting area. It was an advert for condom usage so not really appropriate but Gus couldn’t read and would just see the bright colors and it was kind of nice that Brian was even attempting to give them some privacy.

“It’s not like you have a lot of experience with men,” Mel said, and then she thought about it and added, “You don’t do you? I mean it was only Brian before this and well, it’s not like anyone on the planet knows more about sex than Brian.”

Lindsay actually huffed a bit of a laugh at her lame attempt at humor. Because when the chips were down you could always poke fun at Brian’s slutty ways. Only slutty or not, monogamous or not, Brian would never have lied to Justin or snuck around on him. Sure it was because Brian would say ‘look what I found, want to share’ but it had its own weird honesty, honor and respect. That was what hurt the most, not that Lindsay desired someone else, hell she desired others all the time. And boy had Lindsay not like that when they discussed it with Lorraine. Just because you love someone doesn’t shut down biology, a hot girl was a hot girl. But she respected Lindsay, had she been the one to cheat the act of sex wouldn’t have been the betrayal, it would be playing Lindsay for a fool and letting people outside their relationship know there was something in it not working.

Lindsay, by entering into an affair, had openly admitted to this man that she was sexually unfulfilled by her partner. And by concocting the reason to go off with him she let the man know she had nothing but contempt for her family although they were still arguing that out in therapy. Lindsay was painting her trip as a way to spare Mel her little experiment in heterosexuality and not as a way for her and her bit on the side to laugh at the trusting little woman home barefoot and pregnant.

“You should tell him,” Mel said abruptly.

Lindsay looked over to Brian and Gus and then back at Mel and asked, “Tell him what?”

“That guy, Sam; you should tell him you’re pregnant. If you have caught something from him you’ll be obligated, legally, to let him know but you should let him know you’re pregnant, even if you are going to get an abortion,” Mel said.

Lindsay said, “We didn’t exactly leave it well. He didn’t want me to come back as abruptly as I did and I haven’t returned any of his phone calls.”

“He’s been calling you?” Mel said.

Lindsay backtracked, “He leaves voicemails and sends texts, but I haven’t returned any of them I swear. Mel, you know I’m committed to you; to the kids. He was just a mistake.”

Lindsay was unconsciously, or well given Justin’s lessons into the manipulative nature of WASP culture – which had made all the overdone drama of soap operas watched in college suddenly look like anthropological studies – maybe not so unconsciously, shielding her womb with her hands. But Mel decided that if they were going to try and make it work she had to stop thinking the worst of Lindsay and said, “Do you see what you’re doing? You’re already acting like its mother, protecting it, soothing it. I can’t believe I’m doing this but to quote Brian Kinney ‘you’re angry; you’re scared and you’re vulnerable; …you’re not thinking with the rational part of your brain’. I think this is something you should talk over with Lorraine. I know you, Baby, you’ll never forgive yourself if you make a decision in haste, hoping it will make everything better. You’ll beat yourself up with what ifs. Make sure, whatever you decide that you’re doing it because it’s what you want and not what you think everyone else wants; not me, not Brian and certainly not your parents.”

Thankfully before they could get into it any deeper an attendant came and ushered the lot of them into an exam room to have blood drawn.

+

Daphne swung by the loft to pick him up and he waited outside so she wouldn’t have to park. Justin hoped she would assume his fretful worrying was related to Niles because he so wasn’t speculating with her regarding the possibility of Lindsay spreading any STDs among Mel and the kids. However, once he was sure they were all fine he was totally taking Daph and a couple pints of ‘Cold Stone’s best to the privacy of his studio and going off on a wicked queen out over the whole fucking debacle.

“Is everyone coming?” Justin asked.

Daphne said, “We’re going in shifts so there are smaller groups, Sep’s taking the juniors and Tracy is going with Paul and Mike. We’re first though.”

“Have you talked to him? How’s he sound?” Justin was suddenly feeling the same cold dread he’d felt when he panicked during their first visit.

Daphne shot him a concerned look but directed her eyes back to the road and said, “I talked to his mom. She was crying, I think with relief that he’s awake and can put words together. He has a lot of test scheduled over the next couple days.” Justin just nodded absently, remembering the battery of tests over weeks and months until they finally admitted that the nerve damage was permanent. He often wondered if dragging it out like that had been what made it so hard to accept. If they had pronounced it permanent at the beginning instead of giving him false hope it might have been better, than he would have more readily accepted the limitations he’d eventually had to learn to work around.

They pulled into the parking garage near the hospital and ended up driving around for almost ten minutes looking for a space, apparently weekends were popular times to visit the hospital. They entered, crossed the lobby and headed up to Niles floor. As they stepped off the elevator, Justin caught sight of Lena by the stairwell and went over and started to herd her back toward Daphne.

“No, his mother’s with him,” Lena hissed.

Justin asked, “You haven’t met her? It’s been a week.”

“She’s had so much on her plate,” Lena started.

Justin said, “Well its time you did.”

Daphne didn’t so much as blink but smiled and said, “Mrs. Orr, I’m so glad someone from that hellhole has shown some concern. I didn’t know Niles had your class.”

“He doesn’t. But with your faculty advisor still recovering and well,” she sort of trailed off at Daphne’s skeptical look, and then added, with a bit more confidence, “since you’re all graduating soon, why don’t you call me Lena.”

Justin grinned and said, “Hey, Daph’s used to Brian and he’s way older than you. Only don’t tell him I said that.”

He was pretty sure Daphne knew. It was like the first time though when the unacknowledged big gay elephant had been between them. She was a bright girl and well a girl, better at reading the unsaid and sussing out motivations than he was.

Niles looked like shit, but he lit up when he saw Lena. Justin introduced her to Mrs. Anderson and they made stilted pleasantries. Daphne grilled Niles with in depth questions that indicated someone had been researching neurology and brain injuries. Given his history Justin could follow well enough but Niles being just out of a coma didn’t have the answers to the questions she was firing.

“Have they tested your motor control? Hand functions, balance, junk like that?” Justin cut in.

Niles said, “Some, I have some vision impairments but they think that might clear up.”

“Will you be in rehab here or can you do that from home?” Justin asked.

Mrs. Anderson said, “He still has some testing but we may have him home sometime this week.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Lena said but looked sad and if Mrs. Anderson was half the guardian at the gate that his mom had been Justin figured she felt she’d never see Niles once he was ensconced in the gated community.

Justin said, “Well I hope you’re prepared to be inundated, Mrs. Anderson because we’re going to all be over all the time until Niles can get out on his own.”

A light went on in Daphne’s eyes as if she finally had a confirmation of what she suspected. She said, “We’ll set up shifts and help with your therapy. Lena, you have some time free during the day in the summers, don’t you?

“I’ll make time,” Lena said and there were unshed tears in her eyes.

Niles offered one of his bland smiles and said, “I’d like that.”

After that Daphne warned Niles that the others were stopping by later in shifts so he wouldn’t have a huge crowd in his room at one time. She also warned that Sep wanted to interview him on camera and that she was pretty much looking to destroy St. James Academy and was working on a documentary/expose of what she was calling ‘the crucible of a killer’ which seemed to Justin to be kind of TMZ if you know that was around yet. And despite the catchy name, no one had been killed, yet. Justin hung back while Daphne pretty much reported on everyone including Hunter as if Niles was going to be quizzed later. Niles and he shared a look that said ‘yeah, women what’er you going to do’ and given only one of them was straight it was just sad.

Mrs. Anderson appeared to be pretty oblivious to the machinations of her husband and just what kind of circus was being orchestrated for the emergency board meeting. Her sole focus was on Niles and it almost choked Justin up. The way she looked at Niles; it was both reminiscent of the awed wonder Brian had when he held Gus for the first time again, and yet scarily akin to those bleak days after his own bashing when his mother had been at her wits end and wanting to both shelter him from everyone and thing yet incapable of reaching past his own defenses.

Niles was concerned about the finals he missed and his grade point average anxious to keep on track for going away to college in the fall. Justin pointed out based on his early acceptance and his current academic standing; St. James should issue the diploma without any more testing. Graduation was a week away and Niles wasn’t sure he wanted to attend even if the doctors would let him go in a wheelchair. Justin privately vowed that if Niles wasn’t there Chris Hobbs damn well better not be there. Surely the boards’ lawyers would advise them of how bad that would look.

Justin kept checking his text messages to see if Brian had sent a heads up, it was right before they were leaving that he received one that said, ‘HH after I ditch the munchers -- 1st STD test 4 G, no photos’. Seeing him face palm, Daphne asked, “Something up?”

“I have to head home. Family stuff. I can catch a bus if you want to stay,” Justin said.

Daphne said, “No, I have a million things I have to get done,” and she looked at Niles and said, “I’ll call you, everyone is stopping by today but not all at once, don’t hesitate to chase us out, we totally understand if we’re driving you crazy. But call if you need or want anything. Sep should be by in an hour or so, just let her know if you have a craving for any food or junk you can’t get here.”

On the way back to the Strip Daphne said, “Okay, obviously you’ve been holding out on me, so spill.”

“Sorry, you’re my best friend so my secrets are wide open to you always, but Niles’ secrets are his and you have to get your confirmation of any suspicions directly from the source,” Justin said.

They had a brief glare stand-off at the next red light but suddenly Daphne gave one of her own brilliant smiles and said, “Good thing I warned him to expect me to be over to help then, right?”

+

Justin had Daphne drop him in the Strip. He picked up bell peppers in a variety of colors; a new bottle of balsamic vinegar; a couple avocados; sundried tomatoes; some crumbled goat cheese and a loaf of crusty French bread. Brian still wasn’t home when he got back to the loft. He cleaned the peppers and cut them into large chunks. Mixed up a dressing of olive oil and the vinegar and kept in on the side. He set the table, minced the sundried tomatoes and pitted the avocadoes before scooping out the meat of the fruit and mashing it up with a little lime juice to keep it from turning black. Folding the avocado paste, goat cheese and sundried tomatoes together he checked his phone and saw a text from Brian saying he was on his way home. He sliced the bread and put six slices into toast under the broiler. Once both sides were toasted he spread the paste of avocado, cheese and tomatoes on the toast and set the sheet aside to wait for Brian to get home. He tossed the peppers with the dressing and sprinkled some shredded parm from the fridge on top, before dividing the lot into two plates, leaving room for the toast once it was done.

He set the table with just napkins and forks and water goblets. He then opened a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and poured two glasses and put the bottle on the table. After the morning with the lesbians Brian would probably prefer something stronger, but it was too early and they had plans that night.

Brian had left without a bite to eat and if Justin knew him, and if he didn’t, no one did, Brian hadn’t eaten while he was out. The reason lunch was so light was because they were going to meet Em and HD for dinner before meeting Chris, Jud and their girls for the show. ‘Blue Collar Comedy’ was probably the last thing on Earth Brian wanted to do right now but he could sure use the laughs even if it was at the audience and not the comedians. Straight people were so weird.

“I need a fucking drink,” Brian said at almost the same instant Justin heard the door roll open.

Justin popped the toast under the broiler to melt the cheese before handing Brian a glass of wine. He asked, “How was it?”

“There were tears. We had our first family visit to the screening center. All four of us got tested; and given the dykes are pregnant we scammed six for the price of four,” Brian sighed and sipped his wine.  He added in a sarcastic rant, “Personally I was hoping not to have to take my kid to a sex clinic until he hit puberty. I think; more than the therapy, more than the tears and the promises broken and mended that this brought home that it’s not just the two of them in their relationship anymore. We’re not just waiting for our own results. Three children are impacted by this. Gus is the least likely out of the five of them to have contacted anything. The positive, if there is one, is they’re both in the early stages of pregnancy so… actions can be taken.”

“Jesus, you mean,” Justin started then turned abruptly to take the toast from under the broiler and plate it.

Sipping his wine, Brian shook his head and followed Justin to the table, “It’ll depend on what if anything she may have contracted. We got information overload, since neither have allergies to penicillin they can be treated while remaining pregnant for some stuff. Lindsay went from emphatically having an abortion this morning to a weeping mess whose beating herself up that she’s going to lose the baby. How you go from planning to kill the sprog because it’s unplanned and inconvenient to a couple hours later wailing that it has to live and you’ll never forgive yourself if you’ve endangered your kid? I just don’t get. If you think it’s a person, and you’re mourning it if it dies due to an STD, why wasn’t it a person when you wanted to sweep it aside because it was a physical representation of you being a fuck up? Am I being overly Catholic, or just a guy?”

Brian must have been starved because he didn’t make any cracks about portion sizes or the fat in avocados or cheese. Brian caught Justin up on the Mel and Lindsay drama and Justin updated Brian on the Niles situation.

Justin heard the words not spoken. Brian was scared. Scared for Gus but also for the new kid and scared for Mel who wanted this baby, and scared for the girls in how this one stupid mistake could tear them apart, could put something between them they couldn’t get past or forgive; and just what that would mean to Gus.

Despite all Lindsay and Mel’s constant drama, Gus had had the kind of childhood Brian had dreamed of, Gus knew he was wanted, knew he was loved and even though they spent so much time apart Gus had known with all his heart his parents loved him and in their own weird way each other. That could all be changing and it must be their fault, somehow due to the reset, but for the life of him Justin couldn’t track what butterfly wing had resulted in this earthquake.

Brian sighed and said, “To think I just spoke with Tyrone Reese looking for something around Shadyside or Squirrel Hill for those two.”

“Brian, speaking as someone you sprung a house on, maybe they want to have some input on that decision,” Justin said. Not that they couldn’t resell anything he bought, they’d more than doubled their investment when Brian flipped the estate he’d picked up for the wedding that wasn’t.

Brian said, “They can’t be trusted. They need room. Not just for the kids and the au pair, but for a home office, Lindz is operating out of the dining room and Mel brings home work. Now Lindz is thinking of keeping her little mistake that’s six people in three bedrooms and one bath. They need a minimum of five bedrooms and three bathrooms, off-street parking, preferably a two or more car garage – I’m not letting my kids live in any of the neighborhoods those two can afford. Whatever they get will need upgrades, a security system, whole house air, some decent yard space in case they end up with a dog or some sort of pet. Maybe an in-law suite or something ‘cause they’ll need an Alice or a Mr. fucking Belvedere or a Jeeves to their Wooster because Lindsay couldn’t keep house for just the four of them when she was a stay at home mom.”

“Mom should have her license soon. What had you checking foreclosures?” Justin said.

Brian had just popped a couple forkfuls of salad into his mouth so paused to chew before he said, “Fucking stone aged technology. Online listings are for shit and Google maps are years away. Which is good I guess; Tyrone loves me and this way there won’t be every hipster with a dream of turning some big drafty barn into a B and B out to up the prices. We can grab something for a couple hundred k and reno it to meet the girls needs and then once the kids are grown they can either grow old there or dump it for a couple mill and retire to Boca.”

Online real estate was in its infancy and in the future Brian had purchased property frequently by calling whichever broker, or rather having Justin’s mom call a broker and put in a cash offer without so much as setting foot in it. Now there were still shows on TV on Sunday morning showcasing what was on the market and open houses were the only way to really get a look at a place. Brian was going to do what Brian was going to do it was useless to try and reason that buying a house for them wasn’t going to go well. Many things had changed over the years; Brian’s spending habits, not one of them. It was a good thing Brian had a knack for business and all that future knowledge.

Justin remembered to let Brian know Michael had stopped by and mentioned he’d figured out his key didn’t work in the new system.

“What did you tell him?” Brian said.

Justin grinned, “Oh no. He’s your best friend. I used my WASP superpowers to divert and distract him. You get to tell him his free live porn is off the table; the couch; up against the wall; over the kitchen counter...”

“Are you trying to tell me something,” Brian smirked.                 

Justin said, “Well we do need to take a nap before we go out tonight and the best way to sleep in the middle of the day is a hot hard fuck.”

“I was such a good influence on you,” Brian said and he seemed to relax at that, the tension leaving his shoulders and he bit into the crusty bread with its rich but nutrient filled topping. Justin was going to trick him into eating better this time through if it killed him.

After humming appreciatively at the taste, Brian made one of his faces when talk turned to their plans for the evening. They’d had fun with Chris and Tracey at and after the Gala but Brian wasn’t a big standup comedy fan even when it wasn’t four straight guys who did observational humor on the redneck lifestyle. Justin suggested having Em and HD over to dinner sometime and Brian just gave him a look, the one that said he was drinking the koolaid. But Justin pointed out that outside of work and hiring both HD and Emmett for various things they hadn’t gotten together socially since Emmett’s dinner party. He said, bumping into each other while out on the town didn’t count. Brian responded that given HD’s taste ran to country music and Emmett’s interests were celebrity gossip and the latest grooming trends they didn’t really have much in common. And Justin responded, “besides the next fifteen years?”

So talk turned to if they thought HD would ever tell Emmett, the likelihood of Emmett believing him if he did and whether or not Justin and Brian having the same story would help or hurt HD’s credibility. Brian was all for staying out of it, and telling no one, unless that person had also, for lack of a better term, reset. Justin hated that term it made their lives sound like games saved at a certain point.

And finally after tiding up the kitchen and loading the dishwasher they adjourned to the bedroom to work out the stress and tension of the morning and get some rest before they headed out for the night.

+

They took HD’s truck and parked in the garage across from ‘Heinz Hall’ the show wasn’t for hours but they were meeting Brian and Justin at ‘Indian Spices’ for an early dinner. Emmett had requested a table with a street view, it was a Saturday and even if it wasn’t a game night there was no reason to risk a long wait. It was good spicy food at a reasonable price and given how HD and Justin could pack away the food that was always a consideration. At a large booth near the window HD ordered appetizers of samosa and pakora while they waited. They didn’t wait long before Emmett saw Brian and Justin coming down the sidewalk. Brian was in jeans and a dark tank, his de rigueur uniform when clubbing. He had an arm slung over Justin’s shoulder while Justin told some story that involved lots of hand waiving. Brian looked relaxed and seemed to be paying attention. He wasn’t rolling his eyes and didn’t seem to be snarking at Justin. They really were an adorable couple, although he knew Brian would kill him if he said so.

“What’re you getting all misty over?” HD asked as he looked up from perusing the menu.

Emmett huffed, because he wasn’t misty, but said, “Brian and Justin,” and he nodded toward the window as the men slipped around a group heading the other way and made for the entrance, “they really are adorable.”

“More like adorkable,” HD snorted after glancing out the window at them. He shook his head and smiled, “You’re a hopeless romantic.”

“Hopeful,” Emmett corrected, “Hopeful romantic.”

Once Brian and Justin joined them and helped themselves to the variety of appetizers already on the table they ordered and had a nice leisurely dinner. It wasn’t like they hadn’t just seen each other the previous night but it was hard to gossip when out clubbing and they rarely all met for breakfast anymore. It wasn’t intentional but it was so much easier to have a bite before Huxley went to work in the privacy of their own home and Jud and Shelley stopped by often as not on Sundays. Without Mama and Aunt Lula to take attendance Jud was missing Sunday service almost as regularly as Emmett but they had gone together a couple times to the New Bethel Baptist Church right up on Forty Third Street. Sure they were just about the only white people there but the hymns were the same as back home and Emmett liked to sit and sing the songs he grew up with once and a while. Before Jud had moved to Pittsburgh, HD had attended with him and still would come if ask but didn’t know all the words to many of the songs. Although after he belted out ‘I’ll Fly Away’ one Sunday he’d been asked to join the choir. With a pained smile he’d used his irregular work schedule as his reason to turn them down. His man might act like a bad ass but he was just the sweetest thing, he never wanted to hurt anyone’s feelings unless they started something first. 

Justin was telling how he’d been to see that poor boy and Emmett was relieved that his prayers had been answered and Niles was awake and didn’t seem to have lost his wits. There’d been a man back home who’d taken a blow to the head as a boy and remained simple, as folks said back there, for the rest of his life. That nice Mrs. Anderson must be so relieved. Justin said she may have her boy back home sometime that week. Even though he’d be swamped with grad parties that weekend, four no less, Emmett made a mental note to call her and ask if he could pick up a cake or throw together a welcome home package for her, gratis since those kids had done so much for Liberty House.

+

Brian hadn’t been to ‘Indian Spices’ since the reset. And he couldn’t think why, actually he hadn’t been there in years before. It didn’t look like much from the outside and wasn’t convenient to the old baths location Kinnetik had been at, and really Indian food while delicious had a regrettable smell to linger around the offices. So maybe that was why he hadn’t eaten there in years, if it had still been around when he died; and thinking thinks like that would never be normal.

They decided to order family style and given Justin and HD’s appetites even if they ordered too many dishes after he and Emmett finished those two could do their human garbage disposal impressions and clear the table. He was surprised that Em’s brother and the other breeders hadn’t joined them but Em had said Tracey was cooking and her place could barely seat four so they were meeting at the bar off the Renaissance lobby after dinner.

They talked very little shop, Emmett mentioned Michael was looking for him and Brian vaguely mentioned he’d been tied up with the munchers that morning. HD indicated he wasn’t sure if Brian’s balls were too big or brains too small when he hear him call Lindsay and Mel that. Justin, in true Morticia Addams fashion, had asked ‘why not both’. Before leaving the loft, Brian had cheated when he called Michael back and called the landline at Dave’s house, giving the same vague story and pointedly mentioned Justin had passed on Michael’s message asking why he couldn’t have told Justin what the crisis was and that he would be unavailable tonight as he was going to the concert Em had got him tickets to on his birthday. Which was why his phone had rang four times during dinner, all Michael according to caller id, so Brian shut it off, hoping surely the girls wouldn’t have a Gus crisis until after the show was over.

“Was Mikey bleeding or anything when he stopped by?” Brian asked as he repocketed his phone.

Justin snorted and then prissily blotted his mouth before saying, “No Brian, he was typical Michael ‘I need to talk to Brian; only Brian’ Novatny.”

“Special Needs seemed fine last night; they left at what eleven, eleven thirty? How early was he hunting you down?” HD asked.

Emmett put in, “Huxley, I’ve asked you not to call Michael that, you and September are going to slip and call him that to his face, or use it in front of Debbie.”

HD looked contrite but then shot Justin a look that was pure September. Brian felt that as Mikey’s best friend he should be stepping up like Emmett was and defending Mikey but without Ben to train out some of his more egregious behaviors this reset was highlighting the weird codependency the two of them had had at this age. In the nine months before hooking up with Justin, before the soul saving revelation that Justin was Justin, his Justin and not a wide-eyed seventeen year old virgin, Brian had tried to move slowly, but had needed time to work on his finances, get ready for the future and to take advantage of his knowledge what was to come. He’d tried to get Michael to be a bit more independent, but most of the time he’d pulled away for his side business was discrete. Michael was used to him leaving early with tricks, to being out of town on business, to having to entertain clients around town, so it had been easy to do other stuff in that time. Now, especially since he was his own boss, anytime he wasn’t with Michael, Michael was assuming he was with Justin that seemed to mean, at least to Michael that Brian should be available at all times. He hoped this was just Mikey being needy. Surely if Vic or Deb had a problem they’d call themselves. Maybe he’d caught Dr. Viagra at the baths or heard gossip about Dave’s extracurricular activities. But then Emmett would know and god knows he’d never be able to keep something like that to himself.

“He showed up around nine,” Justin volunteered, apparently answering HD’s question. “When he said he had been trying to repeatedly reach Brian I did ask when and pointed out that it had only been a matter of hours since we got in from the night before which we spent with him and the rest of you. He didn’t mention how he’d been trying to reach you,” Justin directed to Brian. “The loft phone hadn’t rung since you had left and surely he would call before driving in and being upset someone isn’t home.”

Emmett offered, “He and Dave seemed fine last night. Michael wanted to stay but Dave drove and sure it was kind of early but I figured they had plans today. I’m swamped tomorrow but I’ll call and see if he’s off any days this week and maybe we can get to the gym and girl talk.”

Brian and HD shared an unplanned synchronized eyeroll at the term girl talk and Brian chuffed a laugh and said, “I’ll see if we can talk tomorrow sometime,” as he met Justin’s eye he added, “after Brunch.”

“You can drop me at my studio, have some privacy at the loft in case there is a crisis du jour,” Justin said.

+

Jud happened to be looking toward the door when his brother came through the lobby entrance. Emmett was dressed almost like a normal person, which meant kind of down for him. He was wearing jeans and a tight silky tee shirt with bold pink print. He’d never pass for straight but it was a far cry from his club wear. To be honest knowing Em and how little patience he had for pretense Jud had been worried he was going to go all out and show up some of his dancing clothes with glitter on his eyes and gloss on his lips. He’d nearly died of shock the first time he’d seen Emmett and HD leave for the clubs. HD had just worn black jeans and a black cotton tee shirt with the words ‘Han shot first’ in gray script, but Em had his stomach bare, pants made of something like naugahyde slung low on his hips and a feather boa. How Emmett managed to be so out there but still thrive, have a circle of friends that seemed to have been with him for a while if not since he left home, was beyond Jud. Burnett was sure that Emmett was languishing alone surrounded by deviants who would take advantage of him. Jud had been as surprised as the rest of the family when Emmett showed up with over six and a half feet of Pennsylvania badass. But even meeting HD and having him come to church with Aunt Lula hadn’t prepared any of them for the idea that Emmett had his big gay life in the city and it wasn’t something he needed to be pitied for.

Shelley and Tracey had gone off to the ladies’ room, together as women did, and left him and Chris chatting over a couple of long necks. Chris went in for craft brews and Jud was willing to try anything but he never really got in to hard liquor. Which meant the four of them could stay out late and still be fine for work the next morning. Tracey worked crazy hours, early and late; and Shelley worked even when she was at home but it was nice having young friends who were comfortable with playing as hard as they worked and not feeling guilty about it. Tracey wanted to try skydiving and there was a place up near Grove City that apparently you could go and take a class and if the weather was good and you passed the test they took you up for a jump the same day. They were trying to coordinate a weekend when he was in town and Tracey could get a Saturday or Sunday off.

Emmett seemed engrossed in something he was saying to his friend, the one that was dating the kid. But HD was glancing over the heads of the crowded bar off the lobby of the Renaissance so Jud nodded to him and watched the big man steer a wildly gesturing Emmett expertly though the crowd without disrupting his conversation. His friend really didn’t seem to be paying attention to him and was rather obviously checking out a guy who was at the bar with a female. The young blond kid was nodding and smiling to Em though and even though that Brian guy’s attention was elsewhere he saw him say something that must have been sarcastic because Emmett looked ready to hit him, the kid laughed and slapped halfheartedly at Brian and HD said something that made Em beam up at him and Brian to twist his mouth like he was refusing to laugh at himself.

The guy with the girl noticed Brian checking him out and instead of getting mad blushed and when the young blond beamed at him he almost spilled his drink. Luckily the girl he was with remained oblivious to the two men flirting with her date. Jud wondered what Em had been thinking when he invited these two.

+

By the time they returned from the ladies’ room Brian and Justin had arrived with Em and HD. Shelley told herself to relax. Sure technically she was socializing with her bosses but this was different than when she worked for Mr. Ryder, who she was pretty sure didn’t know her name. He’d called her Kelly once. Brian scared the dickens out of Todd and half the temps and yeah, Bob and Brad were terrified of him too, but he really wasn’t that bad. Frankly Shelley preferred a boss who knew what he wanted. It was grueling work but very fulfilling. She’d rather work to Brian Kinney’s exacting standards than for one of those people who couldn’t put their desires into words and would make you do stuff over and over but never tell you what was wrong or right about it just that it wasn’t what they wanted. With Brian, he told you what he wanted, loudly and succinctly which was fine by her because when you got it right he might not lavish praise but he certainly ponied up the cash and rewarded good work.

So she may stick to a two drink minimum just to make sure she didn’t embarrass herself but yeah here she was partying with the CEO; take that glass ceiling. She hadn’t told anyone but Jud that Brian had told her she was head of the Art department. It still didn’t seem real. She didn’t know if she was going to wait until after the interviews next week, or after she hired someone without any input from Brian, or until she got her first check - because Mr. Schmidt had stopped in the office and offered her the chance to make adjustments to her 401k based on her new salary – before she told her parents she was now an executive, but she wanted to savor it for herself for a bit. Daddy had been so sure when she got let go that she’d have a tough time finding work as an artist and when she’d been working from home before they got their offices he was worried it wasn’t a real company.

Jud settled up their tab and they started to head out to the Benedum. Now that she was an executive maybe she should start grabbing the bills, but he could be such a Southern gentleman, not that she didn’t appreciate him getting the door or buying dinner but it was hardly fair. She never liked the idea that the man should always pay, it wasn’t like sex was some kind of hardship that she needed to be bribed into. Jud was a healthy boy and deserved to be wooed a bit too. Maybe she’d take him on a trip to Vegas or something. Emmett was going to Paris, why shouldn’t Jud get a vacation. It couldn’t be too long because he was a new hire and might want to save his time off to visit home but surely they could swing a long weekend.

Their group strolled to the venue and got in line with the rest of the crowd. As Jud slid his arm around her Shelley said, “This was a good idea, I’m glad we came,” in response to his answering smile she added, “We should all go dancing afterward.”

The look on his face was almost comical so she added, “Don’t worry I’ll protect your virtue from all the men who throw themselves at you.”

+

Justin couldn’t stop smiling. Some of the routines were familiar; he’d heard them before on TV and the radio. Most of the four guys on stage had their own followings, tag line from routines like ‘you might be a redneck’ or ‘here’s your sign’ that had wormed their way into pop culture. To be honest he’d never even heard of Ron White before HD mentioned him, but he liked his Texas drawl and the way his stories took on the nature of a cyclic poem like Homer’s ‘Iliad’, building to reference a punch line of something three or four stories ago. It gave the whole routine the feel of sitting around a bar with a bunch of guys trying to out lie each other in relation to who had the weirdest family or was the craziest of the lot. The muscles of Justin’s stomach were getting a better work out than his crunches. Even Brian had laughed out loud a couple of times.

Justin wondered how much harder it would be to do comedy in a theater with decorous crowds seated in long rows as opposed to clustered around little tables with a two drink minimum. But it was possible that most of the crowd had frequented the bars in and around the city before attending because they seemed to be really enjoying the show. He hoped the time had flown by for Brian as it had for him because it seemed the comedians were lined up on stools doing their closing bit before he knew it. And the night was still young. Tracey had been so happy to see them, they hadn’t been out together since the night she met Chris and they’d both greeted Brian and he like old friends. Chris had congratulated him on his new contract and now their four hetero friends, including Emmett’s brother, were on the list they should send tickets to the opening of the Music thing at the History Center once a date had been firmed up. It was so weird to think that it hadn’t been a year since the Burlesque show had debuted. How things had changed, Justin thought.

+

After the show Tracey and Shelley were raring to go and Jud was okay with hitting a dance club but not a gay dance club. But Chris had no backbone so the four of them accompanied Em and his friends to a place called Babylon. The line snaked out of sight but for some reason that Brian guy was treated like a celebrity and they all walked right in without waiting. Not that Jud was in all that much of a hurry to get in but it beat waiting in line with what looked like every gay man in a hundred mile radius. And the sooner they got in the sooner they could leave.

It was surreal. Nearly naked men were dancing up on platforms; stuff was raining down from the ceiling. It wasn’t as if he’d never been to a dance club but not one that was solely populated by men; men in all states of undress practically having sex on the dance floor. Jud overheard Em tell HD to keep him away from the backroom for fear he had an aneurism. Tracey and Shelley were giggling and treated the whole thing like one big ‘Chippendales’ show, which was when the kid, Justin, said to him, “you’d probably be the same if it was Dyke Nite.”

Chris barked out a laugh and Jud just shook his head trying to visualize the place in reverse with women everywhere. He couldn’t imagine they would be too happy to have him gawking at them like the girls were doing so he asked, “Won’t these guys get mad that we have women with us who’re checking them out?”

“They won’t care,” Justin said. “It just means they’re hot, no man, gay or straight minds being told he’s hot.”

They hadn’t been there long. Brian was out on the dance floor with his boy and Emmett had dragged HD out. The girls left for the ladies room and Chris and he were at the bar, Jud at least was hoping that if anyone took an interest they’d assume they were together. He nearly facepalmed for thinking that; how was that good?

And then Shelley was back, dragging him out onto a dancefloor packed with men, and yeah he felt hands graze his ass, intentionally or unintentionally; you couldn’t move without brushing against sweaty well-muscled bodies. Emmett, nearby and in his glory, was given a modicum of space due to the possessive glare of his boyfriend. Brian and Justin were drapped over each other swaying as if hearing completely different music and he felt Tracey behind him dancing with Chris. Lord, Burnette would have a stroke.

+

Brian was thinking they’d done their friend time and he could take Justin and maybe that hot Latino who’d been panting for it since they got here and head out without offending the breeders. Sure enough that thought alone had jinxed him because here was Mikey cutting through the crowd, minus the good doctor, heading right for them. He pulled Justin in and kissed him, and said, “we’re about to be boarded.”

“Brian,” Michael said, “I’ve been calling you all day.”

Brian said, “I told you I had that thing tonight.”

“I need to talk to you,” Michael said and shot Justin a look and added, “Privately. It’s important.”

“I’ll get us some water,” Justin said. He didn’t bother to hide his eyeroll and turned back as he moved away, out of Michael’s line of sight and mouthed ‘special needs’.

Brian chuffed a laugh and asked, “Is this private enough?” Given Emmett was less than three feet away if Mikey was spilling on Dave’s infidelity it would be all over but it was Michael’s choice not to leave a message or wait until they were at the loft.

“Lindsay’s pregnant,” Michael yelled over the noise of the music and the crowd.

Brian went from tolerantly exasperated with Michael to angry at whomever was spreading that while Lindsay was still dithering about keeping it or getting rid of it, so fast that he almost heard the mental gears squealing. He asked, “Where the fuck did you hear that?”

“Heather from the GLC told Vic. Who do you think she asked? It couldn’t have been you, you would have told me. And what is she thinking, if Mel and her are both pregnant at the same time, whose going to pay their bills?” Michael asked, “You don’t think-”

“Stop. Right now,” Brian cut in.

Michael looked nonplus but said, “Why? Aren’t you curious?”

“Sure, Mikey,” Brian said and he knew his tone was dripping with sarcasm but couldn’t stop when he added in the same loud voice, “I’d be curious how you got syphilis if Heather from the GLC told me you had it but I’d wait until you decided to bring up the subject before speculating on it at the top of my lungs in the middle of fucking Babylon.”

Michael stepped back as Brian’s voice rose in volume, he looked around as if just noticing the surrounding dancers who were paying pretty close attention to the exchange. Brian said, “Time and place, Mikey. Lindsay is supposed to be your friend. That means if you hear gossip about her, don’t spread it and if you can’t stop yourself you go to her first to confirm your facts. We’re thirty years old now, Mikey, we’ve got to fucking grow up.”

Brian noticed Justin sliding back though the crowd. He handed Brian a bottle of water and looked from Michael who apparently had been stunned silent by Brian’s outburst and Brian who was pretty sure he was channeling Rage. After a moment Justin must have twig to the fact that something had gone down while he was away as Michael was just standing there, so Justin said, “you want to get out of here? His name’s Luis.”

“Yeah, good work. Night Mikey,” Brian said. Tomorrow he’d have to call the munchers and let them know that whichever one of them who had unburdened herself to Heather about Lind’s sprog had pretty much sent out birth announcements.

 

 


	79. So I'll remove the cause.

It was HD that suggested ‘Ritter’s’ as the left Babylon about one o’clock that morning. Jud was just grateful they were leaving the big gay dance club. Tracey hadn’t noticed until then that Brian and Justin had vanished. Jud had seen them leave with some guy from the club and Shelley had just shrugged and said, “Yeah, they do that” said it as if things like that happening weren’t worth mentioning.

Emmett had breezily offered that those two had a standing brunch date with Justin’s grandparents every Sunday so had headed home. Jud noted that he didn’t mention they hadn’t headed home alone. He’d seen Justin approach a tall dark haired Spanish guy, and the man had waited at the door while Justin rounded up Brian. He was pretty sure those three weren’t going to go grab a bite to eat together.

As the six of them slid into a big booth and ordered greasy diner food Tracey was saying how nice it was to see Brian and Justin again, apparently they were the ones who introduced her and Chris. Emmett got a kick out of how she proudly recounted her qualifications for being fixed up with him as ‘being single, female and not a dyke’. Jud had heard the story before and Chris still looked smugly amused when she told it.

Em and HD appeared more relaxed sitting around recapping the night with a bunch of straight people than Jud had felt at their dance club but then again no one here was grabbing their asses. Tracey was interested in Em’s business and the type of events he did, saying that sometimes they did promotional events for their stores. Emmett had been hired to coordinate one of the big kick off events for Pride and was sharing details on the party plans with the girls. It sounded like Pride in Pittsburgh was like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, at least among Emmett’s friends. Godiva, who seemed to be a surrogate mom, or probably more accurately dad, to Em was putting together a new outfit and would be riding on a float in the big Parade that wrapped up the week of events. Em and HD were going to be on it too with Em singing in drag. Shelley and Tracey sounded giddy, like it made him some sort of celebrity. Lord knew if it was happening in Jackson, Mama would take to her bed and never poke her face out of the house again.

Jud just sat back and listened to the three of them gush, marveling that his friends seemed to get on better with Emmett than they would with the rest of his family. Lord, to imagine Patsy and Buddy sitting down with an interracial couple. Neither of them thought of themselves as racists, but sure enough Patsy would spout some syrupy sweet drivel about how unfair it was to the children, and how those poor kids would never feel they belonged anywhere. Jud bet Shelley would see right through that and probably call Patsy on it, which he could admit he wouldn’t mind watching if it ever happened. Shell wasn’t so much blunt as just very frank; she’d say “yeah, no; I don’t buy that’. Jud kind of liked it, it made him stop and think, she was real good at stripping away pretense and saying things like ‘no, sorry, I think it just makes you uncomfortable. Which is fine, lots of junk makes people uncomfortable, but own it, it’s not wrong; it’s not right, it’s just how you feel, so deal with it and don’t push it off on someone else. Kind of like me not liking clowns, there’s no reason for it. I don’t have some deep-seated clown-trauma from my childhood. And people who are clowns are not morally aberrant; it’s my choice to avoid them, not because they’re good or evil but because I don’t like clowns – they’re creepy.” Shelley often tied what she considered irrational behavior back to her clown aversion.

In fact between the two of them the word ‘clowns’ had become almost a code for things they could never share. Shelley called clowns in regard to his love of NASCAR. And just the other day they’d run into Tracey’s roommate Sharon in line at Starbucks and the two girls had started discussing the merits of menstrual cups verses tampons and he’d thrown up his hands and said ‘clowns’ and went and waited outside for her. She’d come out later with his coffee and said, “Sorry, I’m the same way about teeth and eyeballs. I can watch the goriest movies but not a documentary on dentistry or even someone putting in contacts. I get totally squicked out.” Yeah, he thought, Shell was definitely a keeper.

+

Despite the Latin takeout from the night before Justin and Brian were both showered and dressed in time for a leisurely coffee while paging though the Sunday paper before brunch. Brian waited until after nine and called Lindsay only for it to roll to voice mail, so after leaving a message for her he called Mel.

At her hello he responded, “So which one of you picked Heather of the GLC to unburden the news of your impending little Auerbach?”

“What?” Mel asked.

“Mikey cornered me on the middle of the dance floor at Babylon last night, to inform me, at the top of his lungs that Lindsay was pregnant. He said he heard it from Vic, who heard it from Heather,” Brian drawled and added, “Apparently dykes are just as bad as fags in the gossip department; oh and Heather’s a cunt.”

“So’s Michael,” Mel spat and then added, “Heather’s part of Lindsay’s ‘mommy and me’ group, she must have told her Friday at class. She better not have told her before that because she only told me Friday morning.”

“Can we focus on what’s important? If little Miss Social Status doesn’t want to be the talk of the town she needs to remember dykes don’t accidentally get knocked up,” Brian said. “I thought she wanted to talk this all out with Lorraine before she made any decisions? I’m thinking, knowing Lindz; that having half of Pittsburgh know she’s pregnant will impact her desire for them to know she got un-pregnant. You want to put money on the fact that by next week she’ll be trying to sell this as intentional and pass it off as another one of mine?”

“She wouldn’t do that,” Mel responded automatically and then with dead silence, Brian could almost hear the wheels turning in her mind and they both knew Lindz; and yes, she would. “Shit,” Mel sighed softly.

“I just didn’t want you, either of you, blindsided by this. I left a message for Lindz, all I said was Heather was leakier than a sieve and not the best person to confide shit in that she didn’t want spread around,” Brian said, “I kind of yelled at Mikey about spreading gossip so you will hear from that front. I don’t think he has the balls to approach either of you himself so he’ll probably enlist Deb to scope out the scoop.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Mel said.

Brian wrapped up the call. Apparently, Lindsay had taken Gus to visit her parents that morning as Lynnette was in the process of planning her third wedding. So there was no chance of dragging him to visit the grandparents who didn’t think he was a fucking abomination. They packed up the dry cleaning, Justin muttering about wanting to burn his uniforms at the end of the week, and headed out.

+

They took the Jeep and made quick work of their errands, Justin finally picking up his order from the art supply store on the way to Redstone. Crossing the crowded dining room they stopped to greet Brian’s fan girls who were sorely disappointed that Gus wasn’t with them today. When they got to Bertie’s table, two place settings were waiting for them and George Stickle was chatting with Bertie and Elizabeth.

Apparently, Bertie had contacted George and some of his acquaintances from the philanthropic crowd regarding a seniors’ rights political action committee geared at protecting the elderly from well-meaning or not so well-meaning family members. Justin thought back to the Gala and remembered the brief brainstorming session at their table but had assumed most of it was in jest. But then that was before he found himself forming an organization to help rent boys.

George actually congratulated Justin on the forming of ‘Everybody’s’ Child’ and said he heard that the St. James Gay Straight Alliance was up for an award from the GLC. Justin thanked him while blinking in confusion. This was the first he was hearing of it. Since when was George out, or involved with the GLC? Hadn’t George been all but a recluse until he’d kind of stalked Emmett during his online porn career? Apparently things had changed in the last six months. Justin was still trying to figure out how any of this could be his or Brian’s fault. Elizabeth seemed oblivious to Justin consternation and was saying how lucky she was to have a table filled with handsome men. Justin noticed that when she said it she placed a proprietary hand on Bertie’s arm, so maybe she was marking her territory and warning old George off. Probably not needed in Bertie’s case but from what Emmett had shared old George had game. Bertie and Elizabeth’s relationship seemed to have moved forward since Christmas as well. It was still a few months short of a year since they lost Stella, but guys Bertie’s age were in a seller’s market so Justin hoped she made her move soon and not based upon some outdated etiquette from when widower’s were in their twenties and thirties because time was not to be wasted.

After updating his grandmother on the planned move to the new offices and making sure she and Bertie knew they were expected at the launch party, Justin turned his attention back to Brian who was charming George almost reflexively. He caught the tail end of their conversation when Brian was saying something about relying on the munchers to keep him apprised of the GLC’s latest clusterfuck. George seemed interested in Brian’s take on the GLC, and after Heather’s little slip of the lip Brian didn’t seem inclined to hold back on his opinion that the place with run by social climbing adherents to groupism who were so wrapped up in wanting to be the voice of their own perceived minority that they themselves oppressed the individuals that made up the so called community they wanted to represent.

George chuckled and said to Bertie and Elizabeth, “you were right he’s gem, a virtual love child of James Dean and Ayn Rand.”

Brian preened just as visibly as the first time George had made the comparison and Justin cut in, “If you don’t mind my asking George, I can see why the GLC would be glomming on to you but what brought them to your attention?”

That led to George recapping the same background he had had before Emmett came into his life, but this time it was Bertie calling and meeting with peers of his own age and income bracket discussing how families could feel they owned not only your fortune but your life. George realized he’d been letting Virginia and through her the children who chose to distance themselves from him dictate his actions, interactions and lack of interactions even now that she and he were divorced and the children were grown. George also was surprised to find that he was in good company in regard to families who were only peripherally part of a person’s life trying to dictate the life and lifestyle of a rich relative. He also found that he was not shunned for his sexuality, at least not by Bertie and Elizabeth and a few other old friends. Many of his peers seemed to feel that at his age he was entitled to do what the damn well pleased. In networking with other groups that represented oppressed demographics he’d come into contact with some of the people who volunteered at the GLC. This had led him to volunteering the Shickle mansion to host one of the Pride events.

George’s home was being used to host the GLC’s kickoff party that Emmett had been talking about for weeks. George it seemed had already crossed path with Emmett during the planning stage and found him utterly charming. Justin knew it was the first event anyone in the gay community had referred to Em, well beside Brian, and Emmett never thought of Brian as the gay community. His first jobs had been connections of HD, mostly Maureen and September’s, or rather September and Tracy’s dads’ connections. But once he’d arranged a few successful parties and weddings, word had spread though the country club set. Em had been using mostly vendors from the gay community and left cards with them but had confided to Justin that he was going to start shopping by price because there had been little to no reciprocity.

Attending the kickoff event with useless political hacks and earnest dykes and fags from the GLC wasn’t really Brian’s idea of how to celebrate Pride but David Anderson, James Dae and Frank Payne had bought a couple tables, so they and most of the GSA were going as their guests. Apparently that was where the award was to be presented.

It was nice getting to know George again and Justin watched some of the stress leave Brian’s shoulders. They spent a nice lingering couple of hours chatting with Bertie, George and Elizabeth. Without Gus getting fussy as an excuse to get going they just relaxed out on the patio after with Brian kicking around business talk and Justin updating Elizabeth on his web comic and the girls.

+

“How’s Lynnette?” Mel asked; looking up from the brief she was reviewing as she sat at the dining room table.

Lindsay sighed and wrestled Gus out of his car seat and said, “I can’t believe their going all out for her third wedding. It’s yet another big catered affair, gift registry and honeymoon – you know we could pay off the house for what they’ve spent on her last two.”

“I checked the etiquette books, we don’t have to get her a gift since we’re not invited,” Mel said.

Lindsay said, “Mom suggested if we could not flaunt our relationship we could come, she also suggested we bring dates.”

“Fuck them,” Mel said. “I thought the whole purpose of forcing their hand and making Gus the talk of their uppity friends was that they accept you on your terms or deal with the fall out of shunning you.”

Lindsay said, “well, we could asked Ted and his boyfriend, what’s his name? Kevin?”

“We should ask Brian and Justin, they’d probably end up fucking the groom,” Mel said. “Speaking of Brian did you get his voice mail?”

“Something up?” Lindsay said

Mel sighed, “He called me when he didn’t get you to give us a heads up. He said Michael told him you were pregnant, not quietly over the phone but in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by the biggest gossips on Liberty. Brian said, Michael said that Heather told Vic who told him.”

Mel rose quickly to take Gus as Lindsay first swayed dangerously and then sat abruptly on one of the dining room chairs, looking horrified.

+

After leaving Justin at his studio Brian headed back to the loft. He met Michael waiting outside on the sidewalk.

“My code doesn’t work,” Michael said as he followed Brian inside.

Brian raised the grate and once they were inside the elevator he said, “I know I told you about the new security upgrades.”

“But I can’t get in,” Michael said as they rose.

Brian said nothing as he raised the gate and they got off on his floor, he opened the door and deactivated the alarm before saying, “I don’t live alone anymore, Mikey. How would Dave feel if you gave me the key to his house and I let myself in whenever I felt like it?”

“Justin made you, didn’t he?” Michael said throwing himself down on the sofa.

Brian sighed, shook his head as he went to the fridge, they were out of beer so he grabbed some bottles of water and held one up to Michael as if to ask if he wanted on before saying, “It was getting embarrassing, Mikey. I’m a grown man and I can’t get privacy in my own home. I should be able to have sex in my bed without critiques being conducted at the top of the voice of a nonparticipant in the diner the next morning.”

“Me?” Michael said, as if he couldn’t believe Brian was calling him on it.

Since Michael had declined the offered water with a shake of his head Brian opened his bottle and went over to the lounge area and said, “Time and place, Mikey; like I said last night. What the hell was up with that anyway? I get that you get excited about gossip like any other queen, but first you blow out my phone like you had a serious bodily injury, then you track me down when you knew I had plans, and finally you broadcasted the personal business of someone I thought you considered a friend all over Babylon? That’s not like you, Mikey, or at least I thought it wasn’t.”

“Did you know Lindsay was pregnant? How could you not tell me?” Michael said.

Brian paused, taking a drink to give himself time to calm down before saying, “If Lindsay is pregnant and if Lindsay wants you to know she will tell you. And if she does confide in me about something like that, I am not obliged to tell you. Unless you banged her? You think this hypothetical sprog is yours?”

“Why are you so mad all the time?” Michael said crossing his arms.

Brian sighed and sat on the coffee table, he made deliberate eye contact with Michael – God sometimes it was like reasoning with Gus when he was nine years old, and said, “Right now I’m mad because I expected you to behave like a grown up and not a fourteen year old. Mel and Lindz are family, I expected you to have their backs. It’s one thing to go to them and say I just wanted you to know I heard this and another thing entirely to yell your suspicions to every fag in Babylon.”

“I just feel really left out, there was a time that you would have been the one to tell me if Lindsay was pregnant,” Michael said.

Brian drained the bottle and tossed it across the room in the direction of the garbage, with a lot more force than necessary. He said, “No. There was never a time I would have run to you with gossip about Lindsay, just like I would never have run to her with gossip, at least hurtful gossip, about you. That’s part of being a friend, Mikey. We’re not fourteen. This isn’t dishing dirt in the back of math class about people we don’t like. Stuff like this can hurt people; you know shit like this doesn’t die; years from now someone you blabbed your suspicions to has the potential to bring it up again – probably at the worst time. I don’t want my kid coming to me asking if his mommy was pregnant and if so, where is his little brother or sister based on old gossip.”

“Do you think she’ll get rid of it,” Michael sounded shocked, he wasn’t much of a Catholic but Brian was aware that to him abortions were something for unwed mothers and not something a mom who already had a child would have.

Brian sighed and resolved not to just grab Michael and shake him until his teeth rattled and said, low and menacing, “I have not said anything regarding this matter except you should shut up about it. I have not confirmed or denied any of your highly inappropriate speculations. Seriously, I cannot be any clearer, stop it, stop being an utter dick. If you have questions for Lindsay, you ask her.”

“I can’t do that,” Michael said.

Brian said, “Because it’s none of your business? Because if you think your little stunt last night will not get back to her and Mel - well, too late.”

“You told her!” Michael said and jumped up as if starting a major queen out.

Brian said, “Yes, Michael, just like my first phone call if I heard people saying you had a STD would be to you I called to let her know what Heather was spreading.”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Michael said.

Brian got up and when to the kitchen, while saying, “Babies are just STDs that straight people give each other.”

Brian picked up and put the empty water bottle in the trash and said, “what’s going on Mikey, you’ve been acting crazed over this, why do you care what’s going on with the munchers?”

“You see them more than you see me,” Michael said standing and waving his arms as he followed to the kitchen island.

Brian turned and said, “Because, you’re not raising my son, Mikey.”

“I just don’t get it,” Michael said sitting on one of the islands bar stools.

Brian said, “Get what? What do you need to get?”

“You, Brian! You just moved this kid into your loft, your life and,” Michael paused and ran his hand though his hair, apparently even pulling on it in frustration before standing and waiving his hand again and adding, “what is it about him? I don’t get how in fifteen years you’ve never bothered to get a name or a number and then bam, he’s here all the time. I never see you, it’s never just us. What happened?”

Brian said, “Mikey,” and he found himself at a loss because he couldn’t very well say he’d spent the last fifteen years with Justin, lived through more than most people went through in several lifetimes and come back to do it all, God willing. “I have a fucking rolodex filled with names and numbers. There may always be another trick around the next corner but Pittsburgh has a limited pool of candidates. I’ve always kept the cream of the crop available.”

Brian sighed and opened another bottle of water and continued, “But if you want to know why Justin, well, I was ready. Two important people came into my life on the same night, Gus and Justin; and they both impacted it like nothing before. There was no way either of them weren’t going to change me, challenge me to grow up. You’re living with Dave now, I’m living with Justin, we both have jobs so it’s not like we have endless weeks in the summer to hang out and do nothing together like we did in high school, that doesn’t mean we won’t always be friends or more accurately family; if you know, I liked my own family. You’re like a brother to me. But you’re planning to help Dave with his kid this summer, I get you won’t always be available, I’m in the same boat, a kid is a big responsibility.”

Michael sighed and said, “Well, maybe I’m not ready.”

“You don’t have to be,” Brian said. “You can decide at your own pace when and how much of your life to share with someone else. But Dave must be pretty serious about you. As a dad, it’s a pretty big deal to let someone get close to your kid. Hank seemed to like you, a lot. He’s going to get attached to you this summer, and Dave knows that and he’s taking that risk that if you walk away his kid’s going to get hurt. That’s a big thing, Mikey, it means something.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Michael said sitting back down on one of the stools. “I do like Hank. It’s nice having someone so interested in comics. I mean, you would go with me to the stores but you were never into it. Hey, I got passes, I wanted us to go to Comic Con next weekend, it’ll be like old times.”

“No can do, Mikey. But I bet Hank would love it,” Brian said.

Michael said, “Come on, Brian we never do anything anymore.”

“I’m swamped Michael. We’re getting ready to move Kinnetik into the new digs, if this new business is going to succeed I have to put in the time on it. And I have to attend some Pride events, Justin’s group is up for an award and there are some fundraisers I’m obligated to attend,” Brian said.

Michael gaped and said, “Since when do you care what the gay community thinks, you only participate in Pride to get laid.”

“It’s business, Mikey. Just like I have to wine and dine clients, I have to occasionally wine and dine the fucking community, gay and straight, that’s part of being one of Pittsburgh business leaders,” Brian said.

“You’re not a business leader. You’ve only had your own business since you got fired. It’s only been a couple months,” Michael said.

Brian frowned and said, “Not fired per se; downsized, due to a take-over - not fired. And by this time next year Kinnetik will be up for a Clio and we will be one of the top up-and-coming businesses in Western Pennsylvania.”

“I’ve never got why you’re so competitive,” Michael sighed.

Brian said, “According to Justin, it’s my inner jock.”

+

Justin had his laptop set up at the built in banquette and was working on his webcomic. He published a strip of about five panels every Monday, Wednesday and Friday and was working months ahead, but found he often had to go back and redo and adjust panels and sometimes whole strips to set up future plot points. He didn’t have a background in creative writing, other than the sections covered in various English classes but he had years of working with Michael and tweaking life and cultural events into the comic storyline, from his own bashing to Stockwell and the Babylon bombing. He already had Stockwell’s razorback character set up as a shadowy figure covering up hate crimes in Gayopolis. He was also added a slothlike judge who was on the take based upon Regular Roy.

The doorbell rang and it was the first time Justin had ever heard it. Delivery people usually knocked because the bell didn’t work. He opened the door to find HD screwing the plate over the button used to ring the bell. HD said, “Just a loose wire.”

“Thanks,” Justin said, “The house has had maintenance done by a service up until my birthday in April, but I wasn’t sure if I should keep it up.”

“You probably should,” HD said as he entered and looked around, “you don’t seem like the type to remember to change the filter in the furnace or clean out the gutters.”

“I haven’t lived anywhere but lofts and apartments since I was really seventeen,” Justin said, “well, we owned a ridiculously large house for a while but never lived in it.” It felt good not to have to edit his past. The rest of the world may think he’d gone from his parents’ house to the studio, to the loft but he could tell the truth to HD.

He’d asked HD to look over the house check if anything important was worn down and advise him on installing air-conditioning because he didn’t want another hot sticky summer. It had taken forever for paint to dry when the humidity was off the chart. After they chatted about his concerns Justin gave HD free reign and went back to working on his comic. He heard the garage door being opened, something he couldn’t remember ever having done himself as he and Brian tended to just park in the drive way. The garage was under the bedrooms, leaving about half the floor space of the ranch for the basement, a half bath, laundry and a maintenance room housing the furnace, circuit box and water heater. It was quiet for a while before he heard footsteps on the roof. The house had a slopped roof with the ceiling starting at over twenty feet in the master bedroom and slanting down to about twelve feet in the breakfast room.

When HD finished whatever magic he did they talked about what would be involved in installing air-conditioning before the heat of July and August and if the same ductwork could be used for the furnace as the AC. HD suggested whether or not Justin went with a service to get a ring binder and keep records of all the service and repair details on the house, especially since all of it would come out of his business. Taylor Art has started as a sole proprietor but on Brian’s lawyer’s rec they had formed an LLC. Now that he was paying Lindsay an agent fee on any shows she set up for him and a monthly fee to field some of the ass kissing that went with being an artist, he should probably organize it more than an inbox for the royalties on the lithographs and an outbox for travel expense and art supplies.

Once they covered what Justin had asked HD to stop by for they discussed over iced tea what they missed, for Justin it was cloud storage, steaming media and Adam Lambert; and what they didn’t miss, for HD it was selfies, gluten free everything and hashtag anything. They talked about the upcoming war and all the things that even if they tried they couldn’t stop and made tentative plans to gather at one of their places for 9/11. Justin shared his story of working the diner the morning it happened and watching on the tiny television before the evacuation of the business district. HD had heard over the radio and headed out to the salon Jake had worked at, watching it with the rest of the staff for hours. The thing they both remembered was how no one seemed to want to be alone. Strangers would huddle together in stunned disbelieve already telling what they were doing when they found out.

+

Later that night Dave watched Michael as they puttered around the kitchen. It had been their last lazy weekend before Hank arrived on Wednesday. They’d slept in and then Dave had gone to golf with colleges and Michael went to visit Brian. Michael had been upset the night before but hadn’t shared why. Michael had gone out to Babylon, Dave figured he wanted to enjoy the time before they had a kid at home and would need to coordinate schedules but Michael had come back rather quickly.

Dave knew Michael had gone to see Brian; first last night, and then again this afternoon. When they first started dating the name Brian had quickly become a source of concern as Michael seemed almost indoctrinated in to the ‘cult of Brian’ quoting him or siting what Brian would say or do about any given thing. Given Brian’s reputation Dave wasn’t very pleased with this but watching them together it was pretty clear that Brian treated Michael with a rough yet fierce affection usually only bestowed on younger siblings. But since Michael seemed to like the idea that Dave might be jealous of the time he spent with Brian he kept the appearance of concern with how much time the two of them spent together.

Even the way Brian treated Dave left him with the impression that he was saying ‘sure I like you, but only because he does, you’re not good enough for him, step out of line and I will end you’. Michael had been oddly quiet since he came back from visiting Brian and his mother. Normally they had Sunday dinner with Deb, Vic and Hunter but she was working so they’d just made sandwiches and soup. As they cleaned up the kitchen Michael sighed and Dave turned attentively as that was usually the sign he was ready to put his thoughts into words.

“I don’t want to screw up,” Michael said.

Dave said, “What could you screw up?”

“This, us,” Michael said. “Brian said,” and Dave with great effort did not roll his eyes, and Michael continued, “that for a dad, like you and him, letting you kid get close to someone, to come to depend on them, that’s a big deal that it’s more intimate than sex or even living together. He said you’re showing a lot of trust and,” Michael paused, “I don’t want to mess up but I’ve never lived with a lover, just Em and we were friends but now we’re bringing Hank in and what if… well you’ve met my mother, calm and rational aren’t exactly part of the family motto.”

Dave huffed a laugh in relief and said, “We’ll work it out. Hank isn’t an infant. He’ll tell you if something it up and it’s just for eight weeks.”

“Are you sure this isn’t part of … what was it, oh, WASP conflict aversion?” Michael asked

Dave looked lost and said, “What?”

“Brian said Justin is giving Mel lessons in the WASP subculture and their passive aggressive manipulations used to remain in control and cover up anything that doesn’t fit their image,” Michael said.

Dave said, “I think that’s just the females, the males are traditionally expected to solve problems, pay the bills and remain detached from the emotional hooks used to manipulate them. It’s kind of why I’m glad I’m gay.”

+

The very last Monday at school started with being ambushed, not by the girls but Paul and Mike who demanded he do something to calm the girls down. Justin shrugged off their hold on him muttering ‘pussy straight boys’ under his breath and heading toward their window. Sep and Tracy were hyped up and Mon and Daph had their heads together plotting but it was Brittney who charged up and said, “This is bigger than prom, we’re getting an award and Mr. Payne and Mr. Dae got us a tables at the event of the year even the parents are invited, he offered tickets but mine won’t come but Mon’s dad will so I can go. We get to wear vintage dresses and there may even be a red carpet – it’s going to be awesome, like a movie. Sep’s going to film it for her documentary”

“I need more details, one at a time and coherently please,” Justin said.

Daphne said, “The cookie sale we did for Liberty House. We’re getting an award, St. James GSA is getting an award from Pittsburgh’s GLC for our service and fundraising and contribution to positive community relations. It’s going to be given to us by members of the GLC at this gala event to kick off Pride. The mayor is going to be there, a senator, several councilmen and the deans of Pitt and CMU.”

“And, just about every big gun Daddy’s been leaning on in regard to the law suit against the board,” Tracy said. “He wants them to have faces to put to names in regard Niles case. Apparently Mr. Hobbs and Judge Russo go way back and Daddy’s not risking Regular Roy trying to sweep this away as a youthful exuberance. If there are deals done under the table, Daddy’s taking everyone down.”

“Mr. Payne’s awesome, he’s going to salt the earth they’re buried in,” Brittany said. “And if the doctor okays it Niles may be there at least for an hour or so. That way all the people who might side with the board have to look him in the eye and realize this wasn’t done to some faceless person but to Niles.”

Justin privately doubted the politicians would know or care. He remembered Brian telling him that it was just face time to them and that Senator Baker cared only until a new cause came along. But the girls were young, it was their first time backing a cause, and that enthusiasm and belief that wrong was only done because no one knew about it, that once they brought injustice to light, people would care and do something was fierce and unyielding. He didn’t feel up to disillusioning them. Who knew, maybe this time someone would care.

Talked turned to what they were planning to wear, which was apparently what had set off Mike and Paul with talks of vintage clothing or Tracy’s plan to take them to a costumer she used for her more eccentric ensembles. Justin just murmured that he’s call Brian’s tailor in study hall. He didn’t say he’d already planned to call Sergi after George’s heads up on Sunday. They were hoping to just refresh their tuxes with tails or new accessories to make them period for the Great Gatsby event George said Emmett had envisioned when he saw the Stickle Mansion.

Before he left school after lunch he confirmed plans to meet in the morning for brunch before they all headed to the amusement park for the school picnic. He gave the guys Sergi’s number and mentioned it was wedding season so not to expect a full fitting done by the next weekend but that he could get them some accessories if they needed to give a twenties flare to an existing tux. He was meeting Brian there in an hour himself and then would be transporting the lithographs from Kinnetic to his studio. He figured he could store the bulk of them in the basement and wrap the ones he was giving as gifts.

Afterward, a quick call to the munchers had them picking up Gus since they hadn’t seen him that weekend and him spending the night. Brian planned to drop him of in the morning with Kal on the way to work. It was a quiet evening of Thai take out and vintage James Dean movies as Brian updated Justin on Michael growing pains and Justin mentioned HD’s recommendations regarding the studio.


	80. If not the symptom

The next day Justin slept in and left the loft to meet the gang, plus Ethan before ten. He picked up Daphne, Monica and Brittney and just listened in on their conversation as he drove to the ‘McDonalds’ across from the park. The talk was mostly about Ethan and September. Daphne was trying to be supportive of September’s forays into dating someone not in their school, since in her opinion most of the guys in their school were dicks - excluding the ones in the GSA. Brittney said flat out that Ethan spent more time perving on Paul than on September and wanted Justin to back her up on that observation. Justin copped out by saying he hadn’t really paid that much attention to Ethan and had only met him the one time. He wasn’t sure he should rely on his knowledge from the future anyway, because Ethan had dated both genders and maybe he was sincere. Sep was certainly out of Ethan’s league in Justin’s opinion. But she would be accepting if Ethan manned up and admitted to her he was attracted to both genders and as long as he wasn’t leading her on or using her as a cover she’d be a good friend to have while he figured his shit out. Having September in his life might actually make Ethan a better person. But Justin was quietly in agreement with Brit’s open scorn of Ethan’s over the top romantic gestures, despite, or perhaps because he’d fallen for them himself at one time. Even Mon, who was normally the most willing to give people a chance had dubbed him ‘Ethan Darling’ based upon his tendency to use an endearment almost every time he said September’s name.

When the stumbled into the brightly lit fast food restaurant, Paul, Tracy and Mike were already eating and saving multiple tables. After ordering at the counter, Justin and the girls joined them just as Sep and Ethan came through the doors on the other side of the restaurant. They were arguing or at least Sep was rolling her eyes and dismissing whatever Ethan was saying with a wave of her hand. Sep and Ethan bypassed the counter and just came over to join the gang. The gates opened at ten thirty but none of the rides started until eleven so they had plenty of time. The meal if you could call it that was filled with updates on the vintage shopping the girls had done the night before and plans for the Pride kickoff event. Ethan had apparently just been informed he was invited and seemed reluctant to attend. Justin was starting to wonder if September was his bit on the side because he seemed to be avoiding public venues. Or maybe it was just the kind of venues he might be outed at, like he’d figured Sep was good arm candy but hanging with the GSA might not be great for his career or image as a straight guy. Or maybe Justin was reading too much of his own experience with Ethan into this all.

They were through the gates as close to opening as possible at September’s urging because she wanted to get in line for a popular ride. With a little arm twisting she had Justin and Mike running with her to get in line for the Sky Coaster. Only between one and three people could ride at once and the lines were always long so getting there early was the only way to ride it and not spend literally hours in line. Ethan apparently wasn’t much for heights, at least not when there was no tracks or car to be belted into. The Sky Coaster was a large harness that they strapped you into and then cranked you up to the top of a launching pad where you pulled a rip cord and swung out over the crowds, a manmade pond and walkways of the park. Not so much a roller coaster as a human pendulum, which well, why not. Heights never bothered Justin and September was insistent that she needed men, because the more weight on the line the further and longer it swung back and forth was. Tracy and Paul were in line behind them, but got some random guy in line to go with them because the rest of their friends just looked at them like they were crazy for wanting to ride it.

While they waited for the rides to start once the others had caught up with them Brittany was grilling Ethan on how he felt about dark rides because normally Mon was her riding buddy but Monica was firm on no dark rides. Apparently she’d been scarred for life by some short story by Ramsay Campbell. Their group was an odd number with Ethan along which made riding some things inconvenient but Hunter was supposed to join them at one after his therapy session. Their school wasn’t really large enough that they were tripping over people they knew, although Tina Myerson and friends joined them in line for the Jackrabbit. And Devon and his not-boyfriend had fried Oreos with them between rides sitting around one of the fountains. Two larger school districts were there at the park that day as well so the place was packed even on a weekday. It was like every other school picnic since they started school, hot, dirty rides and dirty water leaving a grimy feel and oodles of fried food weighing down his stomach on the spinning rides. At least the weather was warm enough to dry out quickly after they rode the water rides.

As it started to get dark, and the lights came on the rides, a wave of nostalgia similar to the one that hit him when he first returned to school as a seventeen year old all over again, hit Justin so hard that he felt his eyes almost tear up. It hadn’t been bad going back to high school all over again. Okay it had been pure hell and he no longer had the manners or patience to deal with fucking Hunt and Dixon, but seeing everyone so young with their whole lives ahead of them. Just having the time to hang out and talk about ridiculously irrelevant crap for hours during the forced socialization of the school day was somehow priceless and completely underappreciated while it was happening. Would he go back and do it again? Hell, no. But he did think he would cherish the experience he had this time more than he did the first; and not just due to the lack of brain damage. Daphne had been his most valued friend, still was, but somehow they were both better off for having a larger circle of friends and for having shared that time with more than just the two of them.

Ethan and September had fought and made up twice during the day. Paul and Tracy may have had some form of sex in the Haunted Hideaway boat ride and Mike had won from the midway not one but three large stuffed Clifford dogs which he’d given to Monica, Brittney and surprisingly Hunter. They’d all eaten nearly their weight in Potato Patch fries and Daphne had barfed after a spin on the Rotor. After the park closed they wrapped up the night at ‘Ritter’s’ with Hunter cramming in the back seat with the juniors for the ride home.

Since they’d all got home late with no nap during the day, the whole school was zombiefied on Wednesday and Justin went straight home to sleep after lunch. During lunch the girls were bitching that there was no time to hit the salons since the school board meeting was Thursday and the Pride kick-off event was Friday night. Unlike Prom they couldn’t have all the fun of mani/peds and up-do appointments to make a fuss, but with the period theme they were researching the hairstyles of the roaring twenties and stressing over how to adapt their twenty first century flat ironed looks to the bobs and chignons. They were planning a mani/ped party at Tracy’s that evening for the girls preceded by hitting the library for books on 1920s cosmetics, makeup and grooming trends. The research trip to the main branch of the ‘Carnegie’ was scheduled for after school that day. Justin had never been so happy to be male in his life, well at least where sex wasn’t involved.

Brian woke him for sex when he got home from work and afterwards Justin dragged him out to the ‘Harp and Fiddle’ because it was within walking distance and had thick beer and heavy food, which he really didn’t need more of but wanted desperately. Unfortunately the pub was having one of its Lisdoonvarna Matchmaking Festivals, which it apparently did a couple times a year with a local singles group. The place was wall-to-wall breeders trying to hook up, but there was live music. Brian spent the meal giving him that look that said he had no idea why he put up with Justin and that no sex was worth this. Justin actually liked the song ‘The Devil’s Only Daughter’ and said so; Brian looked deeply ashamed to be seen with him.

With a tongue-in-cheek tolerance that would be wildly out of character for his thirty year old self Brian endured Justin’s enthusiasm for singer with a smirk. He just shook his head when Justin ordered dessert and even waited for the server to leave before informing Justin it was a ten dollar slice of Dunkin Hines yellow caked doused with whisky, not even good whisky. Once again, Justin sent up a silent pray of thanks that he’d found his Brian and not the man he’d fallen in love with the first time, when they’d reunited under that street lamp. How much harder would the last six months have been if it hadn’t been his Brian who’d been seasoned by life; being a father and successful business owner? He liked to think they would have become friends but thirty year old Brian would have been as skittish as a feral cat and every day would have been an exhausting uphill battle. Justin had been prepared, back in November, or at least thought he was, to pursue Brian at any cost. But Brian Kinney could be the proverbial immovable object and Justin had no doubt that it would have taken two or three years to wear down his ingrained defenses – or longer if there had been restraining orders involved.

It was too loud to talk much at dinner but on the walk home they talked about getting out of town. Between the coming board meeting, the Gatsby party, graduation, graduation parties, Kinnetik’s move and launch party, and finalizing the next show at the History Centre, they were swamped without even touching on the disaster that was the munchers.

“I’ll come if you want,” Brian said as they strolled down the sidewalk. “I know all this shit is dredging up stuff neither of us want to revisit.”

Justin shook his head and said, “No. It’s going to be packed you don’t have a kid there or a press pass.”

“True. And last time,” Brian said and his voice barley hitched but Justin heard it and bumped their hands together before linking their fingers. “Last time it became all about your thirty year old lover corrupting you and not about the fact that trying to kill someone is supposed to be illegal or the general fucked up-ness of the school siding with the attempted murderer over the guy who was scrapped off the floor of the parking garage,” and on those last words his voice kind of dropped, this was getting to both of them, but Brian plowed on, “and it should be about right and wrong and accountability not whose getting laid.”

Justin tugged Brian over and kissed him, right in the middle of the sidewalk. And even here, in the heart of the Strip, a block from Liberty Avenue Justin sometimes tensed, waiting for a horn to blow or some asshat to shout a slur from a passing car. But for tonight it was quiet, or quietish, there was a restaurant a block down the main drag in a converted garage. The former bays had garage door-like windows that on nice nights like tonight were opened and music drifted from there as well as` from a little blues bar down an alley in the other direction. He loved living in one of the few urban oases in the ‘burgh. So much of the town was pokey little neighborhoods with street after street of houses like Debbie’s or the munchers, but here in the Strip it had always been a bit like living in Brooklyn with clubs and restaurants changing themes and names but always just being around the corner.

“Give it a month,” Brian murmured into the kiss then pulled back and slung an arm around Justin’s shoulders. “We’ll clear out most of this clutter and even when we’re not hiding out in another city, things will be calmer.”

“The girls’ problems won’t go away in a month,” Justin said.

Brian said, “Operative phrase, ‘the girls’ – not ours. We can’t make their choices for them even if we know better, or think we do. All we can do is try and minimize the fallout of this clusterfuck for Gus.”

“And the new kid,” Justin said.

He was rewarded with one of Brian’s beautiful, unguarded smiles as Brian agreed, “And the new kid.”

+

Thursday morning before classes was spent with September first recruiting Mike, in addition to Justin, to film the board meeting. Where she was getting the third camera from he didn’t know unless her dad was now on board with her film study plans. Monica had made a scale drawing of the auditorium where the board would be meeting and Sep looked like a coach planning out the big game when she was positioning the cameras and detailing each of their responsibilities. Justin guessed it made sense; they didn’t need three angles on the same shot, but shot and reaction shots. So while Justin would be concentrating on the parents, especially Niles’ and any vocal members of the audience, Mike was tasked with covering the board members reactions to meeting and Sep would be fluid in her selection, moving from stage to audience and some establishing shots.

At lunch there was some last minute fussing among the girls about the party Friday night. Yearbooks were being distributed or rather students could stop by the admin offices and pick them up so most of their classes and between class time that day was taken up by everyone passing them and signing them. Justin remembered before, finding his yearbook still sealed in the plastic from the printers when he’d been released from the hospital while he was staying with his mom. He also remembered chucking it right into the trash. Now it was filled with random ‘remember whens’ or ‘don’t forgets’ not just from the GSA but some of the people who’d come to his birthday party and others around school in his classes like Tina Myerson. He had more phone number and email addresses scrawled under photos than he expected, some of the kids who’d signed it hadn’t had a class with him for years. Devon rather bravely wrote ‘remember when you nearly gave me a stroke when I ran into you at the dance club’.

Tracy had picked up Niles yearbook and the GSA all signed it first thing, Sep handed it off to Daphne during second period and people were coming up to her all day asking to sign it for him. It wasn’t just the stupid book Justin was taking from this time at St. James. He’d been more here, this time. He actually knew some of these people. He hadn’t just ghosted through his senior year like he had when Brian was the sole focus of his thoughts, which was weird because he actually spent more time with Brian this time.

Even though they were pretty much doing nothing in their classes, he left at lunch again. Dixon was still teaching, and granted with one day left after today suspending him now would not fix anything, but Justin really thought if that lawyer for the board was worth his pay Dixon would have been off for the rest of the year, if not right after prom at least this last week.

He went back to the loft and set his alarm so he’d have time to shower before the board meeting.

+

Daphne splashed cold water on her face, careful to avoid her eyes and smear her mascara. She hadn’t felt the need to barf in the bathroom this time. Mostly it was because she wasn’t speaking tonight, but also because her time as president of the GSA had helped get her used to stepping up and taking charge. That would probably be useful in college. Justin had joked about it looking good on her college apps but the experience in the position would probably reap the most benefits. Justin had really changed since he came out to her last year. He’d become intensely driven and focused on the future. Some of that was Stella. It was so weird that the connection those two had had, even though brief had had such a profound impact on him. She’d been reading up on the value of finding a good mentor, in college, in your career, someone to guide you through the shoals. It was almost like Stella hung on long enough to pass some torch to Justin; an attitude that said, ‘here’s your life, now do something with it’. Daphne had always known Justin was talented and figured he be discovered one day. But Justin, with Stella firmly behind him, had shown her you didn’t wait to be discovered or to live life; you planned, you executed and if it didn’t work you went back to the drawing board and tried again. Maybe he’d listened more than she thought when she was trying to get him to embrace the scientific method, but Daphne thought much of it had to do with Stella’s tried and true experience.

Last year and the year before, both she and Justin had held back, watching the ebb and flow of the school’s social hierarchy like reluctant swimmers avoiding a cold rip tide. Justin, despite his sunny nature, could be a bitchy observer of people and group dynamics. But this year he’d stopped poking fun at the jocks and cool kids and just dismissed them. Their opinions had no bearing on what he wanted or where he was heading so they may as well have not existed. And like always he’d dragged her along. From the front page of the Arts and Leisure section of the newspaper, to suddenly forming their own clique and creating their own form of popularity they’d made senior year memorable. It wasn’t at all like she had imagined when they had spent the day at the Science Center on her thirteenth birthday. That day, Justin hadn’t got, or pretended not to get - the bastard, what she’d been trying to say. She’s spent most of the day trying to explain the importance of them stepping into their teen years. She’d tried to explain it, not quite wanting to put into words her crush, which seemed ridiculous now, and how she was hoping high school would end up like some John Hughes movie.

“You didn’t barf, did you?” Justin asked as she exited the ladies room.

Daphne huffed, “No. Why would I?”

“They’re going to show your speech from February, or at least part of it,” Justin said, he wasn’t looking at her. His attention seemed solely focused on the camcorder in his hands, checking lights and tapes and batteries.

Daphne said, “Who? Wait what? Why would the board want people to see that now?”

“I doubt they do but Sep’s dad and Mr. Payne are having it run whether the board likes it or not,” he said and kind of pointed with his chin toward their own parent posse. There were a lot of people there that evening. The meeting had been moved to the high school auditorium and there were tons of parents, and a few students milling around or saving blocks of seats. Microphones on stands were set up at the ends of the two isles for people who wanted to question, or just yell at, the board. Her mom was ready to be one of the ones who yelled at the board.

Daphne sighed and then said, “Better get into position before your director cracks her whip.”

“I really wish we had a tripod, this is going to be one step up from shaky cell coverage,” Justin said.

“Huh?” She asked, not sure what he meant.

“Never mind,” Justin said.

+

Justin was almost grateful to September. Her obsession with filming the meeting kept him in the background and let him be up and moving and not packed in the auditorium seats. Of course there were two local news crews there filming as well. Including that obnoxious Ann Harris, she was a local commentator who made her career out of being professionally offended. She took every issue and twisted it with some insane logic, pulling back to make outrageous generalizations and then zooming in as if she’d been attacked personally. He wasn’t sure how she would make this whole thing about her, but eventually it would be, at least on her show. For this meeting, it wasn’t Daphne in the center stage it was the Andersons who were understandably outraged. James Dae was projecting a quietly controlled menace that showed posh British manners or not he was cut from the same cloth as HD and Frank Payne. Mr. Dae sat back almost like a director sending in hit after hit from councilmen, lawyers and representatives government oversite organizations.

It looked like St. James could be in danger of losing its charter. If the administration managed to skate on criminal negligence charges then the civil suits would bankrupt Mr. Hunt and possibly most of the board. Of course the board would just fire Hunt and try to shift the blame to the staff for not making them aware that Hunt had been acting the petty dictator. But Frank Payne had said pointedly, after Justin had introduced him to Mr. Patterson, the boards’ lawyer, that he would not stand for some wage slave being made a scapegoat for the board’s failure to monitor Hunt’s behavior. The members of the staff, according to Tracy’s dad, were as powerless as the students and if St. James intended to keep its doors open there had better be a system set in place to insure the next idiot they put in charge couldn’t repeat Hunt’s blunders.

The coup de grace was when a screen lowered from the ceiling and a clip from a previous board meeting was run. It was new for many of the parents outside the GSA and for the news crews from local affiliates. It was preceded with the date and time of the meeting and Daphne’s name and her affiliation as president of the St. James Gay Straight Alliance along with the steps taken prior to the meeting for the club to be officially sanctioned. The writing on the screen detailed that while the required steps had been met that the club was not sanctioned and that this was an appeal. After that a new writing explained that the original denial was mistakenly reported as to being the result of a decision by the board and that this appeal was the first time the board had been informed of the club, or that it had been denied official status.

It screen then showed Daphne in February on the small stage where the board usually met and sent a shiver down Justin’s spine despite having been there when she spoke and having lived through the bashing twice. On screen Daphne said, “ _Our student group wasn’t formed to hurt anyone or convert anyone. We just want there to be a safe place for the students that you refuse to protect. We just don’t want someone to have to be seriously injured or die in order for the ingrained bigotry that permeates the staff and administration of this school to be looked into by the parents and the board.”_

_“Students come and go; you and Mr. Dixon are going to be here year after year, unless one of you is arrested when a kid dies on your watch. This tolerance you show for fag-busting, it should be listed as corruption of minors and deserves to be investigated by the board and an oversight committee from Child Welfare. Mr. Hunt, you encourage this behavior by willful blindness and Mr. Dixon actively rewards it as long as the targeted students are even suspected of being same sex oriented. The people here; they’re here because their concerned about their kids, and they should be.”_

Mrs. Anderson covered her mouth and turned her face into Mr. Anderson’s shoulder, he put his arm around her. Both had been there, like Justin’s mom and Daphne’s parents. Justin lowered the camera he’d been filming the Anderson’s on and off through most of the meeting. Knowing that they had footage of what was on the screen he’d been filming the audiences reactions but that was just a little too personal, to see parents who had spent time waiting to see if their son would die or have any of the numerous debilitating injuries associated with brain damage was just too much

He looked down at the camera and swallowed hard, feeling like an intruder and feeling guilty again that it had been Niles that became the target of Chris Hobbes’ unrelenting self-loathing. He wished he hadn’t kept Brian from coming tonight. Brian had offered to come but Justin knew he preferred to let the parents handle this. Oddly enough it wasn’t his mom or one of the girls whose eyes he met when he finally looked up but his dad. Craig dipped his chin in one of those weird straight guy solidarity moves so common between Paul and Mike and oddly HD and Brian. Justin nodded back and lifted the camera back up and focused on Hunt to see if the deeply uncomfortable murmurs of the audience were having any luck in forcing him to face his own accountability.

The meeting ran over, Daphne’s mom was spot on when she seethed into the microphone that her kid should not have been the voice of reason and that parents paying the kind of tuition the school charged deserved, at the very least to have responsible adults keeping their kids safe. The board wrapped it up without any resolution, but promising to take the very vocal parents’ concerns into consideration when determining how to handle any alleged staff culpability in the unfortunate incident. They kept trying to deflect by saying in that this was now a criminal matter and that it was in the hands of the law. Unfortunately Chris Hobbs’ dad was there and was a demanding echo of Mrs. Chanders wanting to know just what sort of school they were running and what kind of behavior this Dixon was encouraging among impressionable kids.

Ann Harris looked like she’d won the lottery and was flitting from the board members to, Mr. Hobbs to Daphne while handing out her card and getting contact information. Daphne told Justin that Harris woman wanted her to do a spot on her Sunday morning topical review. The woman was gleeful that there was footage of Daphne warning the board of the situation before the incident took place. While Daphne conferred with Justin he watched the reporter approach Sep and Mr. Dae, probably to get access to some of Sep’s footage of the earlier meeting. Daphne seemed leery but interested. She wanted to shine a light on the culpability of the school but had been warned by her parents that slander was a real fact if she couldn’t back her words up with proof. She also looked a little worried about barfing on TV as well.

As the auditorium emptied, there were dual huddles of the GSA members and the GSA members’ parents in the corridor between the auditorium and the doors of the school. Cameras were returned to Sep and her dad was drafted to carry most of the equipment. Plans were made and rides were arranged for the follow evening. The Chanders were riding with his parents. The idea of his dad at a Pride kickoff event had Justin stunned into silence and he couldn’t wait to get home and tell Brian. That alone would probably be worth rubbing elbows with the A-Gays.

+

Friday Brian had an appointment with David Anderson, not regarding the clusterfuck of prom or last night’s school board meeting but regarding his car dealerships and how to do something a bit classier than the hellacious overexcited yelling that made up the campaigns of most car dealerships. Talk had drifted to the preliminary hearing that the Hobbs kid had had. David told Brian that Chris had been remanded to his parents’ custody on bond to await trial. The Hobbs were pushing for a plea bargain. And Anderson, although livid over what was done to his son, was reluctant to let a kid do the kind of time a felony should warrant. Anderson was a nice guy, too fucking nice as far as Brian was concerned.

“I got a son,” Brian said. He pulled out his wallet and handed a shot of Gus gaping at the camera to David. “If someone hurt him even accidentally I’d want to kill them. Your son wasn’t hurt by accident. If you let this kid off with a reduced sentence, maybe just community service; what do you tell your son when he runs into him at the mall? What do you tell Niles if this Chris kid walks up and says he deserved it and wishes he’d died? Has the kid, not the father, but the kid, shown any remorse? Does he think that what he did was wrong? Or just wish he hadn’t been caught?”

David looked shaken and handed the photo of Gus back to Brian. Brian set a date for a preliminary meeting on the new campaign and thanked David for the tickets to the kickoff gala that evening and said he’d see him there.

Brian went back to their temporary offices and scared the hell out of Ian without even trying. He paired the kid with Shelley because she had a good head on her shoulders and wouldn’t walk all over the kid like the art twins would. He gave them a vague idea of the Anderson dealership sizes and products and told them he wanted some preliminary ideas by Monday.

Brian glanced at his watch, it was after four and he was thinking of leaving early. But Justin had been pretty chatty when he’d come home last night and the idea of Daphne facing a barracuda like that Harris woman didn’t set well with him. Ann Harris was a cunt. But she was a crafty cunt and Brian was pretty sure she had snowed Daphne with some overdone looks of concern and cliché platitudes to get her to agree to the interview. After briefly lamenting that as a thirty year old successful business owner he had an unconscionable number of teenaged girls’ phone number programed into his cell phone he did something he’d never done before. He called September.

As she answered he heard a male voice, possibly Ethan’s saying, “Whose Brian?”

“Shut up,” September said her voice muffled and then clearly, “Hey Brian, what do you need?”

“What makes you think I need anything?” Brian said.

September’s voice had a muffled laugh in it when she said, “Because you’re far too busy and important to call to dish.”

“I want you to set up your cameras and film Daphne’s being interviewed for that channel 11 piece,” Brian said.

September was quiet and said, “I was going to use it but I was just going to record it when it aired.”

“You’re the director; do you trust someone else to edit your footage? Daphne is going to be very careful with her answers, but take if from someone who knows, you can alter how the answer sounds by selective editing. If this Harris cunt has an agenda, you having unedited footage of what really occurred could counter any words she decides to put into or take out of your beloved Miss. Chanders’ mouth,” he said.

September sounded oddly like HD when she said, “Good call. But this is being filmed on their sound stage; will they let me do this?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Brian said, thinking really Cynthia would take care of it.

September drawled, “Ahhh, it’s good to have minions, when I rule the world as a benevolent dictator I will have a special place of honor for you.”

“Aren’t you going to need an internship from me? Shouldn’t you start kissing up to me now,” Brian said.

September said, “No, I’ll have my contract set up under Justin, I’ve already successfully bent him to my will. Have your minions see if I can bring a small crew to work multiple cameras. That way some of us can go for moral support without Daph looking like she has an entourage. And we’ll need some kind of release forms from their crew and this reporter woman so they don’t have to be pixelated in the documentary.”

“Will do, later,” Brian said and ended the call wondering when he started taking orders from teenagers, well beside Justin.

 


	81. Michael Rennie was ill the day the earth stood still

 

Friday was the last day of school. There were no classes; textbooks had been turned in the day before. Students were still passing around yearbooks and people who had barely spoken all year were exchanging phone numbers. There were rehearsals for various parts of the graduation ceremony. Clubs and teams were formalizing any summer schedules, inventorying equipment and flyers were being passed out for celebrations at parks, keggers in fields, backyard barbeques and even bar crawls, which was ridiculous since none of them could legally drink.

Justin was surprised by the number of phone numbers and email addresses scrawled in his yearbook with ‘call me over the summer’ or the more generalized ‘keep in touch’. September said the student council was already planning the first reunion, but that was probably sarcasm. Justin just started shoving all the flyers into the back of his yearbook. Paul and Mike had gone off to slam various body parts against former team members in some weird jock ritual of parting so it was just him and the girls clustered around ‘their’ window. He had Monica tucked under his arm in Daphne’s normal place as she sat next to him. Daphne couldn’t sit; she vibrated with excitement and was bouncing off the walls, not in anticipation of her television appearance, or tonight’s award but that her true love, John Hopkins, was one step closer. Mon was nearly in tears that they were all leaving her and Brittney behind.

“We’re going to CMU, its right over that way,” Justin said with a vague wave in the general direction of the school. We didn’t share classes anyway, you can come to campus and Sep and Tracy are getting a place together. That should be hilarious.”

Tracy hearing this hugged Justin from behind, nearly unseating him and Monica from where he perched on the broad base of the window. Tracy said, “You should move in with us, Just. It’ll be just like ‘Three’s Company.”

“Unless one of you has a nine inch cock you’ve been hiding, that’ll never happen,” Justin said.

Monica didn’t even squeak at that so if nothing else the past few months had desensitized her to his random Brianisms. “I’ll just miss you,” Monica said softly, “And the rest of the guys. Niles will be in DC or wherever Georgetown is, Daph in Baltimore, Paul in Columbus and Mike will… where is Mike going?”

After polling the girls it was determined no one knew what Mike’s plans were or where he was going after graduation, so that was put on the list of things that must be found out.

Mon dragged Britt with her to see if Mr. Omler needed help with getting the art supplies and rooms squared away for the summer. The seniors picked up caps and gowns and when not in rehearsals hung out in the cafeteria, passing around yearbooks and making plans for the summer.

Mike, it turned out, was going to Duquesne and planning to major in finance, much to Monica and Brittney’s relief since it was, like CMU, right in Pittsburgh. Justin wasn’t sure how Mike felt about being designated back up date for Prom next year but most things seemed to roll right off Mike, even the girls’ attitude that because Paul was dating Tracy and he was Paul’s best friend that all Tracy’s friends had some sort of community property rights to him.

Tracy was going to attend a drama program at CMU over the summer, similar to the art program Justin had the previous summer. Justin had thought about taking that program again but, instead was considering a condensed statistics class, it was six weeks starting mid-July and would get something he really wasn’t looking forward to out of the way. Mon was taking three classes at the community college over the summer, drawing, color theory and art history. It would be the first summer that she and Brittney wouldn’t be inseparable. Brittney was taking it fairly well and was thinking about getting a part time job or something. Daphne was planning to network with other high schools regarding establishing Gay Straight Alliances and the fundraising awards for ‘Everyone’s Child’. They were already planning the awards banquet but didn’t want it to be a one-time thing and so she was determined to make sure that participation increased next year.

People came and went to ‘their’ table still in the courtyard off the cafeteria, staying to talk or have a soda. Tina Myerson stopped by, she was bound for MIT. Devon was going to Princeton. Paul was going off to a leadership conference and orientation program at Ohio State the Monday following graduation. Devon hadn’t been in touch with Chris since Prom but had rumors from others in their circle that had. Apparently Chris was home, under some sort of house arrest thing as a result of his preliminary hearing. Something Justin had never realized was the Chris was seventeen and did not turn eighteen until three days after prom. That might have assisted in having his own assault swept under the table with just community service. Apparently the school had no objections to Chris attending graduation but the rumor mill said that his lawyer was advising him not to and had said that waiving that in the Anderson’s faces would make it more likely for them to sue his parents for all they were worth in some form of civil suit.

Justin wondered if his friends knew how fast this summer would go, how fast the next four years would pass. He heard September telling Brittney to call Brian and did a mental ‘what the fuck’ wondering since when did his friends call Brian. Then he realized she meant for a job and said, “You know, I’m a partner you can just ask me.”

“I know Brian said, having lunch and being nice to people that you don’t like is basically ‘sales’, but I’m not even seventeen until August,” Brittney said.

Justin shrugged and said, “I’ll talk to Cynthia. We hire temps all the time. You may end up filing or something boring but it’s got to be better than working a drive thru.”

“You know Justin you’re a very attractive man,” Brittney said archly.

He snorted and shook his head because yeah she was a vain flighty teenaged girl and he hadn’t though much of her when he first met her but she had grown on him. She would probably grow up into the kind of ruthless man-eater that made him thankful he was gay, but hell she was his ruthless man-eater.

The last day was only a half day so everyone left by one and it was over. It took a while for that to set in, he’s been counting down all year and it was finally done, it was over and he never has to go back, well, after the graduation ceremony the next day, again.

+

Brian ended the phone call, stood up and longed for an office where he could shut out the chaos of the agency. He crossed to the bar cart and pour himself a short drink, ignoring Cynthia’s raised eyebrow, because one it was afternoon and two he’d just been on the phone for almost an hour with HD’s mother. And HD’s mother was a real ballbreaker. Fuck he’d hire her, the woman did not take no for an answer. He guessed he should be happy she was on their side. He got that she was concerned with this television spot Daphne agreed to do and he had sent an email to Cynthia five minutes into the call to put Maureen Davis on the list of Daphne’s crew as business advisor for ‘Everybody’s Child’. Daphne, the idealist, wanted to get word out on the necessary of all schools having a safe place for students, not just students from the LGBT community but all students who had questions regarding sexuality or institutionalized sexual harassment. Daphne was really driven, much like the Daphne he remembered as an adult. And she still believed that people were intrinsically good and once educated would not seek to harm their fellow man. Brian nearly snorted bourbon at that thought.

The call hadn’t been a complete waste. Maureen Davis was going with the kids to the interview so at least someone there would be over twenty one. Brian was just thankful it wasn’t him. And Maureen owned a business, candy making, not too large but not bad for a regional company started after her husband died. They were kicking around an advertising campaign, something geared toward specialty foods and maybe high end gifts. Now and in the near future, shipping was offering faster and more economical options for perishables and Kinnetik establishing a division solely based on internet presence and sales now would put them well ahead of the competition. It wasn’t like he hadn’t launched something like an internet division before, the cost had well been recouped in the lucrative pay back of being able to slot hundreds of tiny businesses into the originally time consuming templates created for various online marketplaces.

He had cleared most of his afternoon in light of the big charity event that night and Justin was picking up their last minute fitting for tails. And spats, dear God he was wearing spats. He took another swallow of bourbon, before glaring at the room in general. That apparently made Ian trip over nothing and he went scurrying back into the art room. Brian sighed and shot Cynthia a look that that was not apologetic and she smirked. He set the glass back down. He nodded to Ron and said to Cynthia, “Try and keep them from crashing into things. I sent you an email on some preliminaries for Davis Candy, get those computer kids to kick around some ideas and get me estimated numbers on shipping options together. I’ll look at what we have on Monday.”

Brian put away his notes and cleared off his desk, took his keys out of the drawer and left for the day. The next couple of days were packed. This week had various Pride events and with Justin out of school they were planning to spend a couple nights partaking of the throngs of available men that only frequented the club scene during the Liberty Avenue High Holy Days. It would be nice to unwind, since right after that they would be staggering the move into the new office and then preparing for the launch party. Maybe they could squeeze in a getaway between the move and the launch now that Justin was out of school. HD was right traveling would be a bitch after September 11th so why not go international; London for suits or maybe Florence for leather, surely Justin could find something arty to amuse himself with in either city and they’d be able to make some smart long term investments. Justin wasn’t starting that class until mid-July and Cynthia was more than capable of holding down the fort for a while.

+

Mr. ‘Please call me George’ Stickle was just the sweetest thing. He was so courtly, like a leading man in an old movie. It had been a true pleasure working with him. His home was an absolute showplace and the first time Emmett had seen it he knew that it was obvious this jewel was just meant to be the back drop to a Great Gatsby Party – capitalize as needed. Emmett had a dozen students from the local colleges on ladders stringing beads and hanging balloons. Justin suggested that art and theater majors would be ideal hourly temps to assemble his plan to up the drama of the locale. Justin had given him the contact information on a couple of his former professors and the students they referred were just the best busy little bees. The place was being dressed like a movie set. Emmett was keeping names and numbers of the most industrious workers and calling them for his next big event.

Emmett had just stepped outside and finished greeting the people from whom he was renting the cars. Teddy had been a dear hooking him up with the extra insurance riders to cover having them displayed. There were four antique roadsters for the night two to be positioned right up front at the entrance where the valets would be and the lawn lights could show them off while people waited for their own cars to be brought around and two would be inside in the ballroom, brought in through the patio doors, so people could take pictures against them or in them with their costumes. There would be three photographers one dedicated just to the people having photos taken in the cars, one working the room and one who worked two photo booths outside on the patio where guests could have photos taken in groups to commemorate the event.

HD had pulled up a half hour ago and unloaded the bulk of the beads, feathers, flowers and helium tanks. Lord it was helpful that he could make his own hours and was so willing to run errands. Normally Emmett scheduled all kinds of time off for Pride but his business was booming and he was booked all week between grad parties and Pride events and weddings. He really needed to get an assistant or two. Sep mentioned a couple friends looking for jobs, she was going to be far too busy with her documentary but said Mike and Paul would probably looking for something over the summer and that Mike at least would be around after school started in the fall.

“You look happy,” HD rumbled as he walked over and leaned in for a kiss.

Emmett said, “This place. Huxley, this place, I could make it the backdrop of so many stellar parties. It really deserves to be dressed and admired. It’s like finding Norma Desmond just waiting to go back into the spotlight. I want to give it a stage to shine on.”

“Is that the Carol Brunett character?” HD said.

Emmett flapped a hand ineffectually against HD’s broad chest and said, “Oh, Huxley, you, me, and a day off curled up on the couch watching ‘Sunset Boulevard’ stat.”

“You’re going to have to stop accepting every job you’re offered if we’re going to manage that,” he said.

Emmett sighed, “You’re right but it was such a slow go in the beginning and I want this business to succeed.”

“So raise your prices – a lot – and get yourself some steady help,” he said while brushing his lips against Emmett’s temple and added, “you’re going to sleep though Paris if you don’t pace yourself.”

Emmett said, “Never! Come inside I want you to meet Georgie, he’s just a darling.”

+

Justin stopped by the tailors and picked up their tails and accessories on the way back to the loft. Paired with their tuxedo pants and some flashy period accoutrements they should fit in with the roaring twenties party just fine. He was wearing a white tie and suspenders but Brian was wearing his monochromatic black except for a rich red waistcoat. Part of Justin believed you could drop Brian Kinney stark naked in the 1920s and he’d somehow take over the country and probably forestall the depression within a couple years.

So of course by the time he got back to the loft and hung everything to be ready to dress, set out the accessories and popped one of Ami’s vegetable casseroles in the oven it was still early. He set the kitchen timer on the bedside table, got undressed and lay down for a nap. He had no doubt he could stay up for the kickoff tonight but even with the occasional weeknight at Babylon he knew the early wakeup to get to school in time for graduation the next morning would be hellacious.

Brian came home and joined him without a word. But just when things were getting heated the timer went off. He jumped out of bed and shut off the oven and came back to climb back on, because Brian, naked, they could eat later. Brian just had the amused look he got when Justin’s sex drive warred with his appetite. Afterward, they ate and showered, dealt with period hair styles and got dressed; and they looked awesome, Justin just wanted to jump Brian again but they headed out to the Schickle Mansion to see what magic Em had worked.

+

Brian tugged at his costume, black tie and tail coat, and fumed silently; yes, costume. This was why having friends was bad. Between Ted being involved-ish with that Kevin guy, who just loved to be seen among the movers and shakers of the A-gays and Emmett being hired to stage the event and Justin’s grandparents, and every parent of the GSA he’d somehow been roped into a fucking ‘Great Gatsby’ party at George’s mansion. So he was stuck with, not only the standard dickless Stepford fags who ran the GLC but the local wannabe politicos and the country club set, who disconcertingly enough tended to treat him as one of them. Justin’s little alliance and the posse of parents from St. James who had assembled howling and looking for blood over Niles Anderson being the victim of a hate crime had the cream of the Pittsburgh business community all swanning around in spats and flapper wear. Grandmother Corcoran’s crowd was rubbing elbows with the likes of Garth Racine and the rest of his pompous cadre. Even old George Schickle who was both attending and hosting his first Pride event was being courted by the overly earnest Heather from the GLC as he sat safely with Bertie and the crew from Redstone. Thank God the munchers had given tonight a pass.

The jazz from the twenties and thirties was jumping from a small ensemble on risers at one end of the ballroom and Brian had caught HD whistling ‘Sweet Georgia Brown’ as he was loading some extra decoration back into Em’s pretty pink van earlier. HD was wearing black jeans and a black tee shit and had growled ‘I’m just the roadie’ when Brian had asked where his tails were. All in all, aside from having to wear period evening clothes, Brian had to admit Em had done alright. The place looked classy in mostly black and silver. The ceiling indoors was almost obscured as pale silvery balloons hung from strings at various heights and beaded strands were draped like streamers. The tables of h’ordeuvres lining the room by the doors to the patios and edging the dance floor had high thin centerpieces with feathers instead of flowers. Even the hot club boy bartenders were wearing sleeve garters and suspenders and period trousers. There were antique roadsters parked in the circular drive out front and on opposite sides of the ballroom where guests could have photos taken in costume posing in and around them.

So why the fuck was he here instead of just writing a check? Leave it to Justin fucking Taylor to form a charity in January and have the proceeds of the kickoff event of Pride in June dedicated to raising money for it. Brian had offered to pay for Debbie and Vic to come, but there was a conflicting event for Liberty House and Vic was one of the organizers so Deb was there with him today and it wasn’t ending until after this started. That and as the only paid employees of ‘Everybody’s Child’ he thought they might feel weird attending an event designed to raise money for Hunter, and for kids like him. Mikey was here somewhere because this was Dave’s kind of thing. He’d caught up with them earlier but had been saved by Bertie and Elizabeth when they arrived. He’d escorted the two where there were some tables set up for card games and vintage board games. A smart move on Emmett’s part to amuse guests who weren’t up to an entire evening on their feet or dancing, Bertie at least had his wheel chair but some of the Redstone crew would have dropped if there weren’t chairs and diversions.

Brian dodged Mikey and Dave chatting with Senator Baker. But he was sidetracked by running into Ben, with Wade. While Ben had always been involved in the community this really wasn’t his kind of soiree, he was more marathons or peaceful protests. And Wade, well he was cut from the cloth HD was and seemed to find the gay community to be fucking pathetic and had probably hauled half these dickless fags’ drunken asses out of Babylon when they were not so discreetly getting the needs met. Still they both cleaned up well and looked good in evening jackets. Ben mentioned they’d been comped tickets and Brian spotted HD’s not so subtle hand in that. If Em could drag gay back up to a comedy event with breeders, apparently HD could call on his own redneck jock fag back up. Not that the good professor had any ridge runner roots like Davis did, but Brian figured he would take what he could get. How Ben and Wade even met, outside a gym, was beyond Brian. Justin probably had a story about that.

Without a doubt the weirdest part of the whole fucking evening had been that after all the glad-handing, and he’d been joking about Daphne’s future in politics but she seemed determined to meet everyone there that night, was that Monica was following her around taking notes. She had an actual steno pad with a rainbow pen, with pink feathers. He was so glad it was Brittney who was looking for the summer job. He hoped the girl was just writing down names and what organizations they were with but with those kids you never knew.

“Hey, stud,” Justin said, pressing against his back, “wanna dance?”

+

Jennifer Taylor hadn’t known what to expect but the Anderson’s and Payne’s had purchased a block of tickets to the event and Craig of all people had accepted for them. If anyone had asked her last summer, when Craig had been riding Justin for how he dressed and Justin had been pushing back regarding conformity that she and Craig would be at the Pride kickoff event this year, or ever, she’d have laughed in their face. She had also had no idea her mother and her, dare she call him a beau; were friends with George Schickle. She had ordered her dress online and was surprised that the two hundred dollars had delivered a heavily beaded black sheath with a hanging scarf hem that extended the length from mid-thigh to her knees. It wasn’t from the twenties but was probably a very well made costume. If she had had more time she would probably have had it taken in a bit at the waist but it was comfortable and she certainly couldn’t have pulled off some of the barely there dresses Justin’s friends were wearing.

She turned her attention back into the conversation she and Craig were having with Frank Payne and James Dae. Or rather listening to, Frank was the kind of man that dominated every meeting; James with his dry aplomb seemed to be one of the few people not bowled over by the force of Frank’s personality. Jennifer found him exhausting, attractive but exhausting. She was actually surprised that Craig didn’t feel the need to paw the earth and try to one up him, but maybe Craig was realizing that the nice thing about being comfortable where you were was that you didn’t need to jump into the subtle and not so subtle establishment and reestablishments of ranking in the ruthless world of money and social position.

The Anderson boy was there in a wheelchair, an attractive blonde woman who looked vaguely familiar was at his side and Jennifer wondered if she were a nurse. It made sense since David and Drusilla were hosting their group that they would want someone to devote her sole attention to their son. Jennifer had been relieved to hear the wheelchair was a precaution due to some balance issues that the head injury had caused and not because he had lost the use of his legs. There was an air of celebration among their hosts and a cheer had gone up from the children at Niles arrival and again when he informed them he would be at graduation the next day.

Jennifer remembered that day that the swirling mass of girls had come walking up with Justin. For so long Daphne had eclipsed everyone else in her son’s life and then suddenly once he had told them he was gay, there were girls everywhere. And now, there seemed to be a few boys, boys he wasn’t sleeping with. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the idea of her son living with a man so much older but she was still reeling from all that happened. It seemed as if overnight Justin had decided he was grown up and he wasn’t going to live by their rules. She’d put it down to normal adolescent rebellion but it seemed to have spread like wildfire. She’d been commiserating with Drusilla earlier that all of them seemed determine to just charge into adulthood as if assaulting the gates of a city in a siege. The pretty blonde who came up to their group unslung the satchel she carried and said, “Pater, hold this for me?”

James Dae, whom Jennifer had only met recently, was being loaded down with spare cameras and batteries by his daughter who then turned to boss around the Miklos boy like they were dating, but she had been using the same tone with Justin until he shoved a camcorder back at her while laughing before going off in search of Brian. The Payne girl and the Miller boy hadn’t left the dance floor since shortly after greeting Mr. Schickle who was surprisingly seated at a card table with her mother, playing of all things whist.

Speaking of the dance floor, she caught Craig watching it with open-mouth, and really it was a Pride event what did he expect. She thought about just elbowing him but looked out to see what had caught her eye. Justin, he was foxtrotting quite gracefully in his, well, young man’s arms, to a jazzy version of ‘Beyond the Sea’. And Brian was leading but some of the rest of the crowd had drawn back to watch. As the small orchestra segued into ‘Night and Day’ they didn’t miss a step but switched seamlessly so Justin was leading and he flashed a brilliant smile at his partner. Watching, Jennifer couldn’t believe they hadn’t been practicing together for years. They were far from the only same sex pairing so the attention they were getting was more due to how striking they looked together and how well they danced. As the second song ended they were stopped near edge of the dance floor to speak with two men and a woman. As Craig made a small confused sound Jennifer asked him, “Is that Senator Baker Justin’s speaking with?”

+

Justin tamped down on the urge to kick Michael in the shin. Brian had given him a good twenty minutes earlier but of course he couldn’t see Brian enjoying himself without butting in. Michael and David were both in tuxes again, neither had gone all vintage like he and Brian. Hell, Brian was using the same water based pomade the he was and was sporting a defined part for the evening. In Justin’s opinion, if anyone looked like Jay Gatsby tonight it was Brian. But Justin held his smile and greeted Diane Baker again. They had met her, again for the first time, officially earlier that evening when they stopped by his grandmother’s table and Bertie and George had been talking in earnest.

Brian had charmed her when he suggested if they were recruiting her for their gray avengers group she was far too young. They apparently hadn’t been but then they had to explain it and Brian used it as a way to make their escape from the fucking old people, as he called them, and that had probably been his original intent because he was crazy awesome like that. And Justin spared a brief regret for spending so much time with teenagers because it was corrupting his vocabulary, even in his head.

Michael was puffed up in the way he got when he was showing off for Brian. He was telling how involved he and David had become in politics and how supportive they were of Senator Baker’s platform. Justin refrained from rolling his eyes as ‘pretentious-Michael the posable action figure’ made another appearance and thought since he was Brian’s best friend that Brian could deal with him. So he said, “Diane. I haven’t seen you on the dance floor all evening. May I tempt you out?”

As he offered her his arm she demurred that she wasn’t nearly the dancer he and Brian were but allowed herself to be lured out. As they danced they made the request small talk about the event and as she was complimenting the Schickle Mansion and the decor he mention that the event’s planner was a dear friend and he would be happy to put her in touch if she ever needed to set something up in Pittsburgh.

After their dance he squired the senator over to where the parents were socializing and introduced her around. She may have been there that night to court the A-gays for donations but between the Payne’s and Anderson’s there was probably more connections into the moneyed crowd than the rest of the room. It also gave him a chance to acknowledge his parents who, frankly, he’d forgotten were there and this had to be the first time his dad had seen him with Brian in such a couple-sense. Justin figured he should count himself lucky it didn’t end in a fist fight this time.

+

Brian both admired and wanted to kill Justin for ditching him with Dr. Dave and Mickey, especially with a Mikey in the mood to pontificate on his social awareness. He saw and dragged Wade and Ben into their huddle, tossed out a volatile topic regarding the charity that the fundraiser was supporting and let Dave and Ben get into a debate on compassion verses tough love before bowing out. Wade shot him a smirk, obviously seeing though the thinly veiled escape but then turned his attention back to Professor Hardbody’s bleeding heart opinions. And yeah, Brian had hit that in both timelines but it wasn’t like he wanted to hear about how he felt about shit.

Brian then got roped into making polite small talk with the wife of PC Stockwell and Councilman Deeks and then steered Deeks over to meet Elizabeth, Bertie and George before escaping that cabal. Somehow he ended up taking Daphne for a turn around the dance floor and then introduced her to Senator Baker before finally getting Justin back in his arms.

+

Justin was constantly surprised by his dad; at least this version of his dad. Sure they’d got into it earlier in his life this time through, mostly due to Justin desire to just get the inevitable over with, he knew how it was going to play out and didn’t want to waste the time or energy to deal with a relationship that had, except for some brief painful encounters, all but ended that day on the front stoop of the house when his father had hit him. But it wasn’t playing out how he expected and he wondered if, at least for Molly’s sake they could forge some kind of working relationship.

In the years that followed their falling out in the original timeline, Justin had pretty much told himself that the first seventeen years of his life were a lie. That the dad who had hoisted him up on his shoulders so he could be as tall as the dinosaurs at the museum, pushed him on the swings or built blanket forts with him as a child was just a mask to hid the vitriol and hate that had spewed forth in his later years. But apparently both those men were housed in his skin and even now he had trouble wrapping his head around that.

The détente this time it was head and shoulders above what their relationship had been last time. And while the specter of his expecting the Craig Taylor of now to morph into the Craig Taylor of then, he had hoped that if they couldn’t maintain a close relationship at least they could forge something health and perhaps minimize the splash over onto Molly. Molly who now still believed that daddy was perfect.

Years in the future Molly had told Justin, over too much wine after yet another big break up, that Dad had not only blamed Justin for the break-up of his own marriage, but for the fact Molly had stopped being such a daddy’s girl. Then, at twenty two, Molly had had enough Psych classes in pursuit of her undergrad degree that she had been able to explain to Justin that their dad compartmentalized, not only his work life from his home life, but his relationship with Molly from his relationship from Justin. She’d said Dad never got that the message he tried to send to Justin had hit her much harder, she was the one who knew just what conditions were placed on their father’s love. She said it was why she had such trouble with men or at least trusting men. The one man who should have loved her unconditionally had firmly demonstrated that he loved her only as long as she abided by his wishes and acted according to his will. Two years later, the Thanksgiving before Brian died, during an argument over her plans to go abroad she’s finally spoke up to their father when he’d said Justin had ‘poisoned her against him’ Molly had apparently quietly replied, ‘Justin never mentions you, you’re the one who threw away your son; did you never think that that action may have made me think your bond with me was any less easily broken, that your professed love for me would be any less dependent on the constant currying of your good will?”

Come to think of it as far as he knew Molly and his father had still been on the outs when Brian died. He remembered Molly from the funeral. Hovering in the periphery of his vision, reaching out but unwilling to intrude in his numbed disbelief or Michael and Lindsay’s more visible loss. But if he hadn’t found himself back in his seventeen year old life he had no doubt she would have been the one to show up the next day, and the day after, trying to help him piece his life together, or bundling him off to stay with Daphne if she couldn’t.

Brian came up behind him placed both hands on his waist and said, “Have we been fucking polite enough? Either dance with me or let’s head home and get naked.”

+

Burgess, just Burgess no Mister, who ran George Schickle household, informed Emmett that the valets had finished up for the evening and the company that leased the display cars had just vacated the premises with them. Emmett checked off the cars being picked up from the list on his clip board. Around him workers popped balloons and swept up the ballroom. He’d hired a cleaning service although three of his student workers were still going strong, there should be four but one was missing. They loaded up everything that hadn’t gone back with the caterer. Huxley was probably right he needed some sort of dedicated space to store some of his reusable items like all the fabric bunting he’d draped the walls with. It had been a long day and his helpers had earned every penny he was paying them and they were still going strong. Their excited chatter hadn’t stopped; apparently they hadn’t expected such a glamorous event in dreary old Pittsburgh. Emmett liked to think he’d exceeded the expectations of everyone involved, his client was certainly appreciative and praised them all profusely.

As Burgess walked away to do whatever it was he did, HD came up behind Emmett wrapping his arms around him back to front, and asked, “Almost done? You sure you want to go to Sep’s graduation? If you skip I will and we can just tell her we slept through the alarm, it’s not like you’re not doing that big shindig for her Sunday.”

“Huxley,” he started but he stopped when he noticed Tim, the missing helper, whose day job was as a dresser for Saks downtown, slipping out of the library, a room that had been locked and off limits to the guests during the party. Emmett opened his mouth to chastise his employee when his client came out of the room behind him. “Oh,” he said and when he realized he said it out loud he tried to cover by adding, “I thought you’d retired for the evening.”

HD snickered into the crook of Emmett’s neck because it was obvious Tim hadn’t been interested in Mr. Schickle library full of books. While it was wonderful that the dear man was still active, Emmett really didn’t want to get the reputation for providing anything but fabulous atmospheres and excellent menus. He was perfectly content to let dear Teddy provide paid companionship to others if he ever launched that porn/private club thing he was thinking about. Tim finally got back to work, but not before slipping his number to Mr. Schickle. Emmett had been happy with Tim’s artistic eye and all the tricks of the trade he brought with him but really if he was some gold-digger just looking to work over Emmett’s growing client list he had just better have another think about that.

It took another hour to wrap up the venue and leave it all to Emmett’s satisfaction. He dreaded getting up for the graduation ceremony but was looking forward to it at the same time. It was Huxley’s family and they had all so effortlessly accepted him into their, frequently loud, often a bit rough and tumble, but ultimately loving embrace. Sure Jud and HD seemed to get along but truth be told other than Aunt Lula, Emmett was pretty sure HD would trade the whole Honeycutt clan for a box of apples.

+

The next morning was brutal. Justin stumbled to the shower with a bitter look at his naked sleeping lover. He was running late and the coffee machine was not worth fiddling with for just that morning. With one last look as Brian slept blissfully unaware that the day had already started for him, Justin grabbed his cap and gown, shoved his bare feet into a pair of battered boat shoes and tried to be quiet as he left the loft. He blearily crawled into Sep’s waiting car, thanking God she’d picked up Starbuck’s from the lobby of her building. Since Brian was coming to the ceremony he didn’t want them having to juggle two cars afterwards.

“Really?” Sep said, “Cut offs and a tank top? What is this; your last fuck you to St. James?”

“I haven’t started my fuck yous to St. James,” Justin grumbled and loudly slurped the venti black Americano. “No one sees under the robe anyway.”

“For girls, who wear dresses,” she said, “guys have pants sticking out the bottom, what are you planning to tell your dad? That you have a kilt on under that thing?”

“I could, the Corcorans have a tartan, I think,” Justin said, he was pretty much pulling that out of his ass but Sep kind of brought it out in him and now he was thinking he might just find out if they did and get himself a kilt to push it. But he was pretty sure Brian would draw the line at being seen with him in public if he did.

Before they knew it they were pulling into the student lot, for the last time. Others students were shuffling into the building also nursing coffees because apparently the Pride kickoff wasn’t the only party the night before graduation. Daph pulled up with Tracy, and like Sep, they were both in pretty sundresses and sandals, with their hair and makeup perfectly done. Justin felt vindicated when Paul and Mike showed up in board shorts and a pair of swim trunks, both wearing St. James Soccer tee shirts. Paul hadn’t shaved but like Justin his hair was so fair you could hardly tell and Mike’s hair was still wet. They all stopped, quiet, looking around but it was Tracy who said, “Feels weird without Niles; and the juniors.”

“They’re seniors now, and we’re alumni,” Mike mumbled.

Paul said, “Fuck I feel old.”

Justin really wanted to laugh because Paul had no idea how old all this made him feel. Paul was still tall and handsome and the kind of boy Justin would have crushed on before he met Brian, and before Chris Hobbes had soured him on blonds, but he seemed so damn young that even if he wasn’t straight it would have been a world of no.

“Well, let’s do this,” Daphne said and they followed her into the school as if going to battle.

They donned their cap and gowns inside and after numerous lectures and the same damn instructions they got the day before they milled around until time to line up for the procession out to the playing field where the crowd had been seated while they wasted two hours of their lives. One graduation may be like another but there was a quiet murmur that moved across the student body as Niles was wheeled in after they were seated and soon the clapping started and then they were standing and cheering. It took a while before Hunt got them all seated and back on track with the program.

Niles couldn’t walk across the elevated stage to the podium because it wasn’t wheel chair compliant, and while he could walk he wasn’t steady enough on his feet yet to risk it, but Hunt came down to him when his name was called to deliver his diploma and Mike and Paul were close enough, both alphabetically and to where Niles was seated, to step up to help him stand to receive it. Justin knew somewhere in the stands were his parents, and Molly. Brian had picked up his grandmother and was her escort since the bleachers wouldn’t accommodate Bertie. It was weird thinking in another time he’d missed this all, out of his coma but bitter and angry. Glancing back at the stands he spotted his family, between graduation and the party tomorrow Justin figured he was going to be paying Brian back for decades.

And it seemed to take forever for such a small graduating class and yet it was over before he realized and they were all being dragged one way and the next for pictures with people whose names he couldn’t even guess. Paul pulled him into shots with jocks and Tracy had him take pictures with Mr. Omler and Mrs. Orr and other random faculty, but thankfully not Dixon who wasn’t present. Daphne corralled him into a group photo with the only other African American kids in their class and Sep and Mike were filming everything but especially Niles.

Emmett, HD and Marc were there with Mr. Dae and a tall blonde woman. Justin heard Marc say to September, “Dude it’s your graduation too, give me the fucking camera.” So he was suddenly pulled into frame with September and lights were blinding him like paparazzi.

As the crowd was breaking up, after Brian looked at him and asked “what the fuck are you wearing?” he found himself in a strategy meeting with Brian, Frank Payne and HD’s mom. ‘Call me Maureen, Angel’ was going with them to the studio for Daphne’s interview, because she was an adult without the same last name as any of them so could pass as a media consultant or legal advisor and because apparently HD had gotten his glare from her. She also had some kind of superpower and could reign in both Sep and Tracy. The entire GSA could not go, but he and Mike were going as Sep’s camera crew and Brittney was going as an alleged media intern and Mon was going as the president pro-temp so she could learn the ropes. So since Niles had been interviewed in his home during school yesterday only Tracy and Paul would be waiting for them in the parking lot of the studio.

Brian dragged him back to the loft saying there was no way he could pass as a cameraman in his ‘homeless, starving artist, hobo-chic’. Fortunately the television studio was only five miles up McKnight Road so Justin could afford to get distracted while making himself more presentable. He took his own car and made plans with Brian to dine in later since Brian had his own plans for the afternoon that involve schmoozing a contact in some cutthroat handball and visiting Gus. Justin rendezvoused with Sep and Mike as they waited for Daphne to show with Britt and Mrs. Davis in the studio’s parking lot.

When they all finally entered the almost deserted studio Justin wondered if Ann Harris just looked insincere off camera. Maybe it was like how the camera put ten pounds on people, may be when she was delving into local news on camera it translated to someone warm and insightful on the television. He didn’t really watch local news, there was no reason. The internet was more up-to-date, especially the weather, and you didn’t have to endure fifteen minutes of drivel while waiting for the story to be slotted in after the next commercial. Most of these local opinion type shows had fallen by the wayside, replaced by blogs and Youtube by the time Brian had died. The idea of waiting until Sunday to be informed, well Smartphones had killed that.

Up close he noticed someone was in love with Botox and reeked of a scent he associated with his Aunt Carol but couldn’t place. Ann had that plastic look around her mouth and forehead. If she kept this up she’d never be able to convey any emotion let alone a sincere one. And then the memory of what the smell was hit him. Ann was practically shellacked in hair spray. He remembered watching his aunt spraying enough in the general direction of her head to send a noxious cloud of the stuff across the room.

Daphne was nervous but poised. It was obvious Ann had an agenda, but so did Daphne. She stayed on target and stuck to her talking points until Ann started to insinuate that having GSAs in schools were somehow dangerous and could coerce students at a vulnerable time in their development in to taking risky chances with sex. Daphne’s normally kind gaze hardened to the point Justin thought she’d been taking lessons from HD. Mike bumped his shoulder to Justin’s and without consulting Justin zoomed in on Ann to get her reaction as Mike was already filming Daphne. Sep should be getting a wide shot that had both of them from the other side.

“Actually Ms. Harris, sexuality doesn’t work that way. If you were coerced in some way when you were younger that’s abuse and I’m sorry it happened to you and hope you’ve receive help with your recovery from that abuse. The GSA is devoted in providing a safe place for all students. That includes straight kids because they are just as vulnerable to sexual harassment as their gay counterparts. Please remember it was a straight student who was targeted by another allegedly straight student in the attack that occurred at our prom. That wasn’t the first time this particular straight student was attacked by that particular allegedly straight student either. Children should not have to live up to some preconceived image of gender to be safe in their schools. If an athletic girl had been being harassed by the same allegedly straight student who attacked our member the administration would have been appalled and stepped in immediately to keep her safe. But because an academically inclined boy was the target the response was to ignore it or suggest he toughen up. If you’re male and academically or artistically or musically inclined it doesn’t matter if you are straight, your peers are free to brand you gay and since the school doesn’t want to appear that it is recruiting or as you put it coercing students into what they erroneously perceive as a lifestyle choice they don’t afford those students the same protection other students have. In other words if you want to get away with bullying anyone for any reason, just imply they’re gay and suddenly you can break the rules. We’re trying to change that attitude. That’s why we feel every school should have a GSA whether or not they have any out gay students attending. Because, we believe that there should be no special class of students that are free to be targeted by bullies without repercussions.”

Ann jumped on the least important part of that and said, “I noticed you said ‘allegedly straight student’ are you implying that,” and she glanced at her notes and said, “Chris Hobbes is gay.”

“I would never,” Daphne said, “out any individual. The minor” and she stressed that word to Ann with her own hard glare, “who attacked our member at prom is the only one who can make statements regarding his own sexuality. I used that phrase because I would never assume someone was straight any more than I wouldn’t assume someone was gay or transgendered; just like I would never assume or speculate on your own sexuality on air, Ms. Harris.”

Justin was comfortably sure that that last bit was going to be cut from show. He wondered how much of Daphne’s replies would be shown. It was pretty dry as far as he was concerned but they weren’t there to up Ann’s rating. Daphne wanted to get her message out and he just wanted to avoid getting sued.

Later, Brian brought home Gus, they were dropping him back with the girls before the party tomorrow afternoon. Apparently Leda was in town for Pride and Lindsay was stressing that the bumpy patch she and Mel were having was going to drive her into Leda’s arms. So she’d spent too much time bending Brian’s ear about her worries. Brian’s idea to get the hell out of town was sounding better and better. They spent the evening in, playing with Gus and researching various vacation destinations online. Other people saw the world as a banquet of foods or a gallery of a nation’s creative history; Brian saw it in terms of shopping so they bickered over which nation would have Brian Kinney boosting their economy over the summer.

  


	82. But he told us where we stand

 

Love her she did, but there were times Mel really didn’t understand Lindsay. Now was one of them. Sometimes it was like they shared a brain or were on the same wavelength and others it was like they were from different planets. Forget ‘Men are from Mars; Women are from Venus’, there really was something to Brian’s ‘what are you going to do they’re fucking WASPs’ attitude. And yet Justin seemed completely different from Lindsay.

Mel was adult enough to admit she was a bit jealous of Brian and Justin. Not in that she wanted their lives or wealth the way Lindsay not so subtlety appeared to, but in that she admired how they pulled together, shouldered burdens for each other, but never seemed to either take over the others decisions or to push off responsibility for their own choices on the other. Maybe that was something they needed to discuss with Lorraine.

Justin had been amazing when Brian’s dad died. Sure she’d been wrapped up in her own little drama, but she saw how Justin smoothed out any outside hassles so that Brian could focus his attention on his family. What she had been surprised by the most was that Brian had let him. Not just because Brian was such a fucking prima donna control freak who never wanting to admit he needed anyone but Brian didn’t seem to trust anyone, never seemed to feel he could rely on anyone to share the load and then almost overnight he and this kid were functioning like a well-oiled machine.

Hell, it was hard to remember Justin was a fucking high school kid, or he had been until today. He’d been the one to confront Lindsay and with distance Mel could see he, well not so much manipulated, but arranged to have her in the confined space of the car on the way back from the airport so she couldn’t wiggle her way out of the conversation. Mel was going to have to use that one herself, at least when they didn’t have Gus in the car. There were times when Mel was sure Lindsay purposefully got her angry just so that she could end an argument by saying, ‘we’ll discuss this later when you’re not so emotionally invested’ and then just walked away and do that ice queen thing.

Lindsay wept and Lindsay sighed but in the end Lindsay batted her eyelashes and waited for someone to solve her fucking problems. Justin jumped in and fixed shit and he wasn’t even out of his teens. He firmly put himself between Brian and any flack that the world threw his way. And yes in that perfect WASP world Justin had detailed like some cultural anthropologist Justin was the type of man Lindsay’s folks had been grooming her to trap if the world were still being written by Edith Warton. But Lindsay at least pretended to be a liberated lesbian so why was she so willing to let Brian come in and solve their childcare problems, what next? Lord knew she’d had a few sleepless nights wondering now that Lindsay was thinking of keeping her baby how they would fit three kids in this house. Until they finished the attic it had been only two bedrooms. And they would need an au pair more not less once they had more than one kid. Well one thing she could trust Brian Kinney would never be arranging marriages for his kids regardless of their genders.

“And the most surreal part,” Mel said, as she turned her attention back to her guest who was sharing lemonade while settled in their back garden. “Was Brian lobbing off ‘go easy on her it’s not like you picked her for her brains, or her good judgement’ before he stormed off like the diva he is.”

Leda laughed and said, “that doesn’t sound like the antichrist you know and loath.”

“Oh he’s still a pushy bitch; he wants everything now, his way and is willing to destroy anyone who gets in his way – or pay them off,” Mel said. “But I will give him this – he puts Gus ahead of everything, including Lindsay and that is just shocking the shit out of her; she really thought she was leading him around by the balls like some ex-wife or something but he just does not let her. Until Gus was born I would never have believed he had it in him.”

Leda laughed and shook her head and in an abrupt segue said, “You’re pregnant; I know I keep saying that but I can’t believe it, look at you. You’re beautiful and you know I don’t go for that shit so it must be all you.”

“I know I said it wasn’t something I wanted, but that was pretty much because it was something I never thought I could have,” Mel said, “I mean I don’t do the whole Madonna-esk glow that Lindz embraced but I am getting excited. I just have this awareness that life is inside of me, a whole person who I just can’t wait to meet and it blows me away.”

“You said a lot of stuff,” Leda said and Mel knew she was referring to her stance on marriage being ‘an antiquated meaningless ritual for heterosexuals’. But she and Lindsay weren’t married, regardless of how the plans for Lynette’s wedding were riling up Lindsay’s competitive streak. It wasn’t like this was even Lynette’s first wedding while they were together, but last time they hadn’t been together long enough for Lindz to be picturing herself in a flowing gown. Given that they would both be pregnant even if Lindz was able to get Ron and Nancy to give her what she wanted which was apparently her own lavish day of ‘me, me, me’ in the spotlight saying this is our favorite daughter - like that would ever happen.

Mel signed, “One thing I’ve realized since Gus was born is that marriage – that’s no big deal, when it’s just two people it is just a bunch of window dressing for all the people outside of your relationship. But kids – oh, God, forget marriage and politics – children make strange bedfellows; case in point.”

She nodded to the parking pad at the end of their lot where Brian pulled up next to Lindsay’s car. Brian slid out of his jeep, wearing ridiculously expensive sunglasses and a pair of jeans that made his legs go on forever and probably cost a fortune. It still caused to her brain to skip like a scratched CD whenever she thought ‘that’s the father of my children’ because seriously who looked at that asshole and thought parent.

So as Lindsay’s Peter Pan crossed the lot towards them and the back door she said, “Brian, I don’t think you’ve met Leda.”

“Funny,” Leda said, “He doesn’t look like the antichrist; heard a lot about you, I’m a big fan of your work.”

Brian smirked and pushed his shades up into his artful bed head and said, “Ah, the lovely Leda, your reputation precedes you as well. Before you pop Mel in the bitch seat of that Harley in the drive, please remember I have a vested interest in her uterus and I hire other people to take care of my vengeance.” And then he nodded to Mel before heading to the house and paused after he opened the kitchen door to added, “Mel, good to see you, call if you need bail.”

Once he closed the door Leda burst into laughter and asked, “how do you two ever stop trying to one up each other, he’s like a boy version of you.”

“Take that back,” Mel said.

+

Brian found Lindsay sulking with Gus. He was still in his car seat which made sense she’d called while she was out pushing him around the neighborhood in the stroller and looked to have just come in the front door. Brian had planned to stop today but later, however Lindsay was put out about Leda’s sudden arrival for Pride and Mel just offering to let her stay. Brian refrained from pointing out that it was Mel’s house too because everything seemed to be about sides lately. Brian freed his son to the sound of Gus’ delighted squeals. Gus was starting to hit high notes that liquefy the bones in the inner ear so Brian found himself holding him at arm’s length which seemed to please Gus even more if the volume was any indication.

“They’re out there having the time of their lives,” Lindsay said, “I can hear them laughing – probably at me.”

“Nice green-eyed monster, Lindz, refresh my memory, when you were getting knocked up, were you still a couple but having sex with other people?” Brian sat next to her on the couch and put Gus on the floor in front of them.

Lindsay turned and incredulous look on him and said, “Brian! I can’t believe you-”

“Won’t embrace some hypocritical revisionist version of your life? We’ve met right?” Brian asked.

Lindsay said, “I’m not being a hypocrite and I’m not-”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he interrupted, “because we know how in the dark I am about this whole monogamy shtick. But in lesbianland it’s somehow morally superior to lie to the person you’re committed to and then get a little something on the side, than it is to openly chase some tail? And I don’t know and God knows I don’t care if Leda’s here to give Mel a ride, so to speak or if she just needed a friend to talk to, but, at the risk of you fucking dragging me to counseling again, maybe you should talk to Mel about how Leda makes you feel, how you’re afraid she’ll be the one to cheat now? Isn’t that how you grown-ups do it?”

“She wouldn’t understand,” Lindsay said, crossing her arms under her breasts, and if that was to make them look bigger she picked the wrong guy to try that distraction on.

Brian laughed, mostly at Lindsay’s pouty pose trying to show off her baby-mama curves, but also at the shear obliviousness she demonstrated with that statement. He slouched down on the couch, siding a bare foot out of his docksides and using it to both corral and entertain Gus before he said, “Really, she wouldn’t get how it feels to be jealous of a close friendship?”

He whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “Seriously Lindz, I get that you use me all the time to make her jealous, you wind her up, like there’s some chance we’re going to suddenly decide we’ve both been straight all this time,” at Lindsay’s shocked look he said in a more normal voice, “I’ve always assumed – and please don’t tell me because I don’t want to hear horror stories of all the moist parts – that getting her jealous notched up the intensity of your sex life and that was why you kept doing it. After all,” he drawled, “it’s not like it would ever happen. Even if you suddenly had a great big cock, you’re too fucking high maintenance for me.”

“Brian, you’re my friend, you’re supposed to be here making me feel better not taking her side,” Lindsay said.

“No sides here, mama,” Brian said, “But a former lover who is a longtime friend showing up and making you suddenly more attentive and possessive does have a certain, shall we call it poetic justice?”

“Do you think this is how it felt for her?” Lindsay asked.

Brian said, “With you and me? Probably. When you vanished and could have been dead – not even close.”

She sighed and put her head on his shoulder. Eventually Gus pulled himself up Brian’s jeans to a standing position and bounced offering them both a big grin showing off both of his teeth. The teeth were both on the bottom so absolutely useless, but he had stopped drooling as much. Brian lifted him up and cuddled him between them.

Their talk moved to the kickoff event and Heather and just general happenings around the community and Lindsay’s plans for Pride. After a while Mel and Leda came in and brought them lemonade, whether they wanted it or not and Brian set his out of Gus’ reach. Talk about Pride continued and Leda was riding in the parade. Brian remembered Lindsay on the back of Mel’s bike and her original plan to march for marriage equality, it didn’t seem she’d be doing either with the state of everything and there was an awkward pause when Lindsay mentioned Dusty asking if they would be there.

Brian broke it by looking at Leda and asking, “Where do they have you sleeping, in a drawer?”

“You’re sitting on it,” she said with a laugh.

Brian shook his head and said to Lindsay, “You need a bigger place.”

“It’s not like we have guests often,” Lindsay said primly.

Brian drawled, “Other than three kids by Christmas? No, that’ll be cozy. You know you don’t want to be moving when you’re dropping sprogs. It takes time to have a place redone you know, upgrades, maintenance. You’d certainly want to be in by no later than October or both of you will be big as horses.”

“Brian,” Lindsay and Mel said in stereo causing Leda to laugh again.

Brian said, “This me being considerate, stop bitching.”

“We really can’t afford it,” Mel said.

Brian said, “I’ll take care of it.”

“Like hell,” Mel started.

Brian said, “This is not about who has the biggest dick. This is three kids by Christmas, you will either kill each other or be house hunting with two screaming infants and end up in the fucking North Side. No way, not my kids, my sister lives in the North Side, it’s a shithole. Would you just look at a place? Without me having to open a vein or stage some complex Rube Goldberg-esk plan to get you to do what I want?”

“You’ve already picked out the fucking house?” Mel said.

Brian looked at Lindsay and said, “I want to go on record that if Gus’ first word is fuck it’s not my fault.”

Leda started laughing again and said, “This has to be the most masochistic ménage à trois I’ve ever seen.”

Mel looked horrified, Lindsay snorted trying to stifle a laugh and Brian said, “You’re fucking evil; is it wrong that I’m a little turned on by that?”

So Brian took Gus with him and said he would call the realtor to see if she was free, there were two houses he wanted them to look at and he arranged to pick them up the next morning. Given the houses they were choosing from, Brian knew she’d be free. He’d had HD look at both of them that week but knew the dykes would feel better with one of their own advising them so Leda was coming with them for the walk throughs.

Once Justin finished up at the studio, he came back and they ordered in while Justin fangirled about how awesome Daphne was. While Brian might agree he kept his mouth shut, and talk moved to strong arming the munchers into moving. Justin and he were split on which house they wanted the girls to pick. Justin preferred a six bedroom four bath in Squirrel Hill in walking distance of the CMU campus. Brian wanted an eight bedroom nine bath in Shadyside tucked away just a couple blocks from Penn Avenue in a woodsy cul de sac that wouldn’t get much traffic. The munchers would be reluctant to leave Highland Park since it took them over six months to pick the fucking house they were in and Justin and he had picked two in under twenty minutes. Brian saw Leda as an asset; they now knew people might come to visit. And lord knew they would need some kind of live in help, in addition to Kal, to take care of all the work supplying a household of six people would demand, Lindsay might be capable but she would hate it and come to resent them all for having to do it.

Since they had seen Bertie and Elizabeth on Friday they skipped brunch in favor of stopping at the diner and letting Debbie coo over Gus. After breakfast they took Justin’s wagon over to the girls and Leda followed on her bike to the house in Squirrel Hill. Lindsay was please at the location, she would be able to push a stroller to the bookstore, coffee house and shopping district. That was the reason Brian didn’t like it, once the kids were running around it was a bit too high traffic and the lot was small. The house had a lot of period details and Leda had pointed out some of the same concerns HD had regarding how weather tight the older windows were and upgrading plumbing and wiring though plaster walls. The realtor had learned her lesson and just opened the door and made herself scares but hung around in case there were any questions they had.

Lindsay also looked like she liked the grand entrance to the one in Shadyside. It had a rather impressive drive that came off and back on to the street in elongated ‘c’ made of pretty weathered cobblestones, a wide stairway of eight broad curved steps in a reversed ‘c’ back to the house which had a high pergola sheltering the big double doors and lit by a big large light modeled or converted from an old gas lamp hanging from a long chain.

“No fucking way,” Mel said before approaching the threshold, and the house was narrower than it was long so if she was resisting now she was going to be a very hard sell when she realized how deep the house was and the true square footage. But you couldn’t find a house with enough bedrooms to accommodate six people without having massive public space as well.

Brian hefted Gus’ car seat out of the back and brought up the rear and said, “Try to keep an open mind Attorney Marcus.” Brian found the house to be a little over done, with a grand foyer that had a staircase of warm honeyed wood leading up, with a large stained glass window in a Celtic knot design letting in light at a landing where the stairway switch backed up to the second floor. There was the old receiving parlor to the left and a vestibule to the right that had a large powder room and an actual cloak room. There was a long dining room, as well as a separate sitting room and a casual den off in the large open area off the kitchen.

There were six chandeliers and three fireplaces on the first floor, a kitchen that ran almost the whole back of the house. Most of the back of the house was well lit from banks of windows and French doors to the large back lot. There was a stone patio and fire pit. At the end of that lot was a four car garage, where the bays opened into an access alley that ran behind the properties. HD assured him that he could convert the space above the garage into a housekeeper’s apartment or even an income property.

But right now the girls were all looking around, Lindsay was opening the pull out pantry cabinets in the kitchen and Mel was opening a door to stairs leading down. Justin was smirking and Brian could almost hear him sing-songing ‘I told you it was too much’ As one, the females turned to look at him like he was crazy, well except Leda and since she didn’t have a bun in the oven, at least not his, and hadn’t dropped his spawn previously, she didn’t count.

The realtor said to Mel since she had looked like she was going to go down the stairs and said, “You might want to start upstairs. That’s where the bedrooms, the nursery and the library are, downstairs just had the family room, laundry, wine cellar and in-law suite.”

“Wine cellar?” Mel said looking archly at Brian.

Brian glared at the realtor to let her know she was blowing a big commission if she didn’t shut it and said, “It’s not stocked. Come on, the gyms up here too.

There were three floors above ground level. Of course the top one was considerably smaller and had been a garret that now had sky lights and one of the bathrooms so they started there and he said, “This is listed as a bedroom but they used it as a gym, you could turn it into an art studio. It wouldn’t take much to add a sink, plumbing’s already here for the bathroom.”

The third floor had an actual nursery, a big room with a mural of a Hogwartslike castle running the length of one wall. It had built in storage shelves and bins and plenty of room for cribs and playpens. It was staged with four child sized beds and a game table. There was only one bathroom for third floor. The other half of the third floor was a long library with a sliding screen so that one portion of it could be turned into a private office. Again it would take some work to personalize it but the house would be ideal for them. They could keep all the kids together until they were a little older making monitoring them and changing and feeding easier. The second floor had duel master suites each with a fireplace and unlike the smaller third floor was as vast as the ground floor. There were four smaller bedrooms two on each side of the corridor which connected the master suites, each connected with a Jack and Jill en suite. There were two staircases from the second floor to the ground, one the grand front on near the entrance and another back stairway that entered into the den off the kitchen.

They paraded passed the ground floor to the sublevel and its large family room with a fireplace. The open area currently had a pool table, and sectional, along one wall was a built in bar and the other had a projection TV. There was an in-law suite on one end with a mini kitchen and its own bath. Behind the bar was a room lined with wine racks that had its own humidity and temperature controls. Brian figured Kal deserved to get the hell away from everyone but if the girls didn’t want to convert the space above the garage they could set up a live in housekeeper there quite comfortably.

“This is insane,” Mel said as Lindsay wandered around falling more in love with the place.

Brian knew not to engage Mel with an audience so he said, “walk with me.”

“Do not manage me,” Mel hissed.

Brian said nothing and led the way back up the stairs. They slowly climbed in silence all the way to the third floor. Instead of turning into the nursery, which was where he would have gone if it was Lindsay balking he entered the library, the shelves were empty but they had been staged with two club chairs by the window that looked to the front of the house. Brian took one and waited for Mel to take the other.

“So we have a family. It’s not like others so we can’t use their template to map out how it works. I am not, nor will I ever be, Ward fucking Cleaver,” Brian said and Mel snorted and made and a noise of agreement. “And you and Lindsay may not even be together next week, let alone until the offspring head off to college.”

Mel looked at him and said, “Leda is an old friend.”

“Swell, don’t care,” Brian said. “If all is happy in Dykeville, you share a master and keep the other as a guest room for when your family visits from Florida. But if you split, one of you can move into the second master and the kids, all two or three of them, will have little to no disruption in their daily lives. All I ask is if you decide to go out and get your own hot eighteen year old blond, that it not be September.”

Mel gaped at him and then laughed. And Brian carefully controlled his expression. Over the years he had learned how to manage Mel, to throw her off her game. It was important to come at Mel sideways, she dug in for frontal attacks so a judicious use of humor and them gradually sprinkling in things to get her mind whirling on thoughts other than how to win the argument, but rather to think about the underlying reasons for the argument.

“That’s the thing, all of us, have to find a way to make this work to have a family for them, even if none of us are sleeping together. If you and Lindz do decide you’re not going to work as a couple, it will be hard living down the hall from each other. But the thing is, you’re always going to be Gus’ mom, even if you’re not Lindsay’s partner. That will be hard on both of you. And I get that while you’re worried about Gus, you’re also worried about the new guy, you’re concerned about letting him get attached to Lindsay if you’re not sure she’s reliable, if you think she might break his or her heart the way I know this thing with that fat old artist hurt you.”

“You really hate that guy, sometimes it seems more than me,” Mel said.

“He fucked with my kids, of course I hate him,” Brian said, “I can buy them a house Mel, I can’t buy them a home, I can’t buy them the security I never had as a kid, I can’t buy them parents who put their kids ahead of whatever is fucked up their lives to turn them into emotionally stunted and bitter children themselves lashing out at the most convenient targets who happened to be the kids that they trapped in that hell with them.”

Brian sighed and said, “I certainly can’t help out by giving you relationship advice, other than telling you that whatever you do it won’t be easy or pleasant. You stay together and it will be a forced march though issues you both would rather burn and bury. You each have baggage from before and after you got together and if there were no kids involved it would probably be better for both of you to clear the table and start over from scratch with someone else. If you split you have the added joy of the issues still being there but both of you being so angry you never work them out, at best you share the same house and get along for the kids, but that means both of you have the joy of seeing the other with other people, either over and over again or something worse.”

“Worse? You’re such a fucking ray of sunshine, what could be worse,” Mel said.

Brian said, “your dykes, how would you feel if Lindsay moved a new someone into the house, how would Lindsay feel if you did. How would I feel if over the next eighteen years the two of you and your fucking serial monogamy let my kids get deeply attached to multiple random lovers who tell my kids they love them and pretend to be family only to move out when lesbian bed death sets in?”

“Justin and I want to buy this house,” Brian said, “not for you or Lindsay but for the kids. We want to give them somewhere to rattle around in and grow up in and once they leave home, to come home to – but dear God we don’t want to live here. If you’re bothered by it we can put it into a trust for the kids. You and Lindsay want to pay rent in whatever amount of your current mortgage payments minus what’s left after the increase in utilities, fine but pay it to an education fund, so in a sense you’d be renting from the kids.”

Mel said, “God, you’re diabolical. I am having the antichrist’s baby.”

“Wouldn’t this room make a great home office?” Brian said.

Mel buried her face in her hands and said, “No, no, no.”

“You could take the money you make from selling your current house and use it to convert the area over the garage into a housekeeper’s apartment, or if you put the housekeeper in the in-law suite in the basement you could use it for income property,” Brian said.

Mel lifted her face from her hands and said, “What housekeeper?”

“Jesus, Mel, Lindsay can’t keep a place this size by herself, she has trouble maintaining any sort of order in your current place,” Brian said.

Mel said, “You know I would be willing to start carrying a cross if I thought branding it might make your back off.”

“Three children, under the age of two,” Brian said, “In fact, depending on the timing of their births you may have three of them in the terrible twos all at the same time. I’ll be sleeping with my hot blond in our blissfully quiet loft.”

+

So they took the place in Shadyside, which was why Justin hadn’t bothered to put money on his choice. His choice would have been more practical if the girls had been going in with them on the purchase, pricewise and to be honest he would go crazy tucked away from everything if he had to stay at home with the kids. God even the thought of that made his skin crawl and long for a hot hard body under him, preferably Brian Kinney.

The church crowd had cleared out by the time they made an offer on the house, making the realtor’s month, she looked like she might be planning to go car shopping on the way home giving the size of the commission on the sale. So the six of them stopped at one of the overpriced ‘quaint’ little bistro on Centre Avenue, Brian actually let Mel get the check to prove he could play nice. Leda seemed as amused by the two of them as Justin was but Lindsay was so busy making plans regarding décor that she seemed oblivious to the byplay.

More and more, Mel and Brian fell into the siblinglike rivalry that they had mellowed into as Gus got older. Chirping and poking, occasionally doing damage neither realized but mostly aware of the sensitive spots and steering clear. Justin didn’t know what had happened to Leda. She actually seemed to be out of the picture sometime before the girls moved to Canada, and surprisingly never came back for a visit once they moved back to Pittsburgh. It was a shame because most of Mel’s friends, aside from Leda and Ted, seemed to be work related or already Lindsay’s friends. After JR was born Michael had felt obligated to take Mel’s side when the girls’ personal lives frequently spilled out into public knowledge but it wasn’t like Mel had many people she could just vent to. So, Justin started doing the subtle prying thing, finding out what Leda did for a living and what her plans were after Pride.

Leda was apparently pretty much of a free spirit, going where she wanted when she wanted or where her work took her. She was a photographer of a commercial rather than artistic milieu so worked freelance. That actually caught Brian’s attention, since he had taken a few classes in college and was a fairly good photographer himself, often shooting his own mockups for presentation or when he was getting Kinnetik started the first time. Justin actually believed Brian had a good eye and if he had devoted more time to refining it a solid chance to do well in artistic photography.

Justin wondered if Leda realized the compliment she was being paid having Brian’s full attention on her as she talked about a desert shoot she had finished right before driving cross-country on her bike. Lindsay and Mel were used to Brian paying attention to them, at least when it was Gus related but in general, outside of sex, people had to be pretty special to catch and hold Brian’s interest.

So while Brian was getting Gus back into the house with all his accompanying luggage and toys, and Mel and Lindsay were quietly conferring, Justin made sure to get Leda’s number and ask if she would be willing to do some work while on vacation. Kinnetik was more than capable than throwing some work her way and if she was good her willingness to travel could make her invaluable.

It would have been nice if they could have headed back to the loft for a nap but they barely had time to stop at Justin’s studio and load up his car with graduation gifts. Since everybody was going to be at Sep and Tracy’s joint grad party he was taking gifts for all of them there. If any of the parents asked for copies he would make a list but Brian even helped him load the prints into the car.

After that it was only a short drive to Schenley Park. The found a spot in the lot at Phipps Conservatory only because Daphne had strung a crepe paper streamer between her car and the one that was one space over with a sparkly sign that said ‘Reserved’ on it. Justin had texted her the night before to let her know he and Brian were going to be late and that he had presents to cart in. Once they parked Justin started to get the lithographs out of the back and looked around to ask Brian for help only to find him handing cash to a couple of valets. Justin looked at him as if to say ‘seriously’ and Brian rolled his eyes and slung an arm across Justin’s shoulders.

They followed the signs to the ‘Garden Center’ the indoor rooms had a buffet table set up, and tables for dinning, outside in on the stage was a DJ and there was dancing on the patio. There were easily over a hundred people there and Justin was glad that despite the venue it was a casual affair since both he and Brian were wearing jeans. Brian had on a standard black tank top whereas he had on a pink and orange silk screen that had caused Brian to say ‘fuck, you went shopping with Emmett’ when he saw it first thing that morning. Justin had thought since it was an abstract of a flower it was appropriate for the location, a botanical garden, but Brian didn’t agree.

“Justin,” was squealed at a high pitch, too high for him to distinguish which of the sudden mob of girls had let loose with it. Daph, Sep and Tracy were in sundresses again but Mon and Britt had on capris. As Justin was being hugged and kissed, Brian directed the valets to lean the packages against a table of gifts.

“Are all of those for just Trac and me?” September asked.

Justin said, “No, there’s one for each of you and the guys, I just figured we’d all be here today.”

“Can we open them now? Or we could have Daphne open hers, since dad said I have to wait until later. Are they all the same? If they are and Daphne opens hers we get to see what they are,” Tracy said in a rush.

Justin said, “Since when am I ever the boss in this crew? We all know you do what you want, happy graduation, or achieving senior status for you two.”

In a swirl of dresses and giggles they all rushed the table and looked through the name tags to find Daphne’s. Brian spotted Vic who had come with Hunter and went to talk with him. Hunter was surprised that there was a package with his name on it and Justin just shrugged and said, “You deserve something for enduring them.”

A chorus of squeals went up that could shatter glass when they got a look at their superhero counterparts posed as if ready for a battle on the catwalk. His parents were there with Daphne’s and his mom went over to look. It felt like he had seen more of them this weekend than he had since Brian’s dad died. Mike and Paul went over to look and then the group moved over to Niles in his wheelchair to show off the print.

“They’re all the same,” Justin said as he walked over, while watching Brian get drawn into a conversation with David Anderson and Frank Payne from the corner of his eye.

It was a lot like the last day of school, with various people being much nicer to each other than they had in the time they spent together K through twelve. Tina Myerson stopped to admire the print and asked where she could get one and Justin informed her they were limited addition and that other than the these the rest were going to go to various charity auctions for Everybody’s Child. That set off another set of squeals from the girls and Mike asked, “Wait, does that mean I can’t hang this in my dorm? Is it like priceless or something?”

“Unless you’re planning to play paintball in your dorm it should be fine, there’s a matte cover over it to keep it from damage,” Justin said, “but no one is going to believe that your two prom dates were superheroes.”

The guys, including Niles in his wheelchair ended up out on the patio discussing summer plans and the girls were doing time with the parents and making rounds with all the guests. A natural lull fell in the conversation and Paul said,” So… It was good to see Mrs. Orr on Friday. She never made it back to school. You were talking a lot, do you know was she sick or…”

“She’s going by her maiden name now, Carter. She was going through a rough patch with Mr. Orr, and was thinking of finding a new place to work, but with all the shit going down, he transferred to Winchester-Thruston so she’s going to stay on at St. James,” Niles said.

Mike looked at Paul and then at Justin and there was really an elephant in the room because they all kind of knew but no one was acknowledging it and it would be so much easier if it was all in the open but Justin wasn’t outing them. Mike finally said, “The two of you…you’ve been spending a lot of time together. I guess you know her better than us. Is she…going to be okay?”

“Well,” Niles said and adjusted his glasses, “any time a marriage dissolves, regardless of why there’s a certain sense of failure, regardless of the need to change all the time and effort put into it seems to be wasted. But I think in the long run she’ll be happier. Whether she’ll be happy at St. James largely depends on the changes they implement in responds to…what did you call it Justin? Institutionalized homophobia? Lena feels she failed as an educator by not realizing how bad it was.”

“It was never bad in her classes,” Justin said softly.

There was another lull in the conversation and Paul said, “So have your parents figured it out yet?”

Mike passed soda though his nose and Justin facepalmed. Niles gave Paul a speaking look that only Ted should have been able to pull off and said, “Until Lena’s divorce is finalized there’s nothing for them to figure out.”

+

Jennifer accepted another glass of wine from Craig as he joined her where she and Rhonda had been admiring Justin’s work. It was certainly different from the burlesque tribute he did. It resembles some of Molly’s Saturday morning cartoons only more stylized and well, sexier.

“Is that Daphne?” Craig asked.

Rhonda laughed and said, “Frauline Righteous Fury, her alter ego; he does know her better than anyone. My little social reformer,” she said proudly, “Have you read the web comic? It’s certainly not appropriate for Molly, he’s rated it NC-17 but he’s outdone himself, I have it bookmarked.”

“He mentioned something but it sounded like something he was doing for fun,” Jennifer said.

Rhonda said, “Well he only updates a couple times a week, so he probably is only doing it for fun, but he has an eye for biting social commentary hidden behind soft core porn.”

Craig sputtered and choked on his wine and Jennifer said, “Maybe I do need to take a look at it, where is it?”

“It’s on KeenSpace, the strip’s called ‘Rage’, it centers around a gay vigilante antihero, who has a more than passing resemblance to Justin’s young man.” Jennifer started at that and glanced over at Brian. Next to David and Frank in jeans and a tank with his an abundance of smooth skin exposed and his boyish face relaxed he sipped from a long neck he did look young. Rhonda continued oblivious to Craig’s discomfort at the subject matter. “My daughter, or rather her comic strip counterpart, plays a dedicated district attorney by day and a costumed avenger by night. Apparently Frauline Righteous Fury works with the system to ensure the guilty are punished and rehabilitated but Rage comes into play when the system is broken. He’s very big on exposing corruption.”

Jennifer saw Brian excuse himself and prowl out toward the patio where Justin had gone some time ago. She thought she should probably talk to Justin about stirring up trouble and the dangers of libel but he could be so touchy. With the Hobbs boy’s trial not having been set yet if his strips were touching on it surely it could corrupt the jury pool. Although with the internet it would be hard to trace what area of jurors would be corrupted.

+

“Hey, Stud, wanna dance?” Brian said. And Justin was taken back to his first Pride so very long ago. The outdoor garden was amazing and Emmett had outdone himself. There were scattered tables set around a dance floor, a service had set up grills with everything from ribs and chicken to steak and skewers of grilled vegetables were supplementing the buffet of salads and desserts.

Justin turned and was dimly aware that his father and mother were there having bonded with his friends’ parents since the whole prom debacle, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Brian took him in his arms and Justin realized the sultry sound of Carlos Santana and Rob Thomas had kicked in over the previous bland pop.

So they stepped out onto the dance floor, probably the only ones under fifty to have been on it yet. And soon they were sliding in each other’s arms like vertical sex. He really didn’t care if his mother had just stepped onto the patio or if dancing with Brian’s bare arms caressing his had him hard as a rock – they really hadn’t danced enough at the kickoff event and really, the best dancing had the least clothes on. The period costumes may have looked great, but they were hot in more than once sense of the word and there was something about dancing outdoors that made the rest of the world just fall away.

The party went on until dusk and Brian even nodded at Justin’s father when they stopped to chat with his mom. Justin was pretty sure just about every member of their graduating class had at least popped into the party, except Chris Hobbes. Emmett had apparently been there for the set up and was off elsewhere for most of the party but popped in as they were leaving to supervise the break down and invited them over Tuesday evening for a casual dinner, saying it was just Jud and Chris and the girls.

 


	83. And Flash Gordon was there in silver underwear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning – Pride puts the whole timeline out of alignment – so from here on out forget any chance of synching the story to the show. The show started with Gus’ birth – Justin was in school (in the US that’s late summer/early fall and then season two started, with Gus’ birthday, (so it should have been a year later) long enough after Prom to be fall, but the show had Pride occur after Gus’ birthday and Pride occurs in June. In this story – So for this story Gus was born in late November after Thanksgiving (11/29 if you must know) and we’re currently starting this chapter on June 12.

 

 

 

Brian was late to work Monday. Because it was the first day of summer vacation and screw parties and presents the best way to celebrate that was sleeping in and sex and then sleeping some more. Brian however was being all responsible and after the sex had showered and went into the office. Justin rolled over a second time to find the light had shifted in the windows and it was almost noon. He showered, grabbed a coffee at Panera and went to the gym. And promptly left before working out because it was Pride Week and it was a fucking meat market; was cruised three times before making it to the locker room.

He knew Daphne and Tracy were busy so he dialed Sep to see what she was up to and if she wanted to have lunch. She was just leaving a salon and wanted to show off new hair so after some phone tag arranged for Mike to meet them at Liberty Diner. Sep was in a mood and a half because Ethan had yet again bailed on her. He had been bailing on pretty much everything to do with Pride. Justin figured Ethan either had a piece on the side or was worried someone he’d been involved with previously would out him. Why the idiot didn’t simply tell Sep he played for both teams was beyond Justin, it wasn’t like she would care – well unless he either wasn’t playing for both and just selling her some illusion of monogamy and romance to use her as a cover, then she’d cut him. Ethan hadn’t had the maturity to understand an open relationship when he had dated Justin, well to be honest neither had Justin, so it was unlikely he had developed any insight into the inherent need for truth to trump romance now that he was even younger.

As Justin wandered up Liberty Avenue from the gym he listened while Sep ranted on her drive over, making attentive noises but he’d heard this all before. If Ethan just told her he did not want to go to any Pride events it would have been fine, but the passive aggressive butthole kept making plans with her and flaking out at the last minute. Sep had always been involved in Pride due to growing up with Jake and HD as family; she’d attended every parade since they’d moved to a building downtown after her mother died.

Justin passed the diner and walked up to the nearby lot so he could tell Sep if there was any parking available, or maybe stand in a space. Otherwise she’d have to look further out and either walk or shuttle in because the whole district was pretty hopping. It was like all the suburban gays were coming into town to get in touch with their roots before Saturday when the throngs that surrounded the parade descended on them. Right in the middle of her recounting Ethan’s need to monopolize her time so she couldn’t make plans with other people and his inability to stick to them, Justin said, “Gotta go, the straight boy is getting cruised.”

Mike was already there, and had had the same thought as Justin regarding saving a parking space. He was standing in the space next to his car, looking at his phone. He didn’t seem to be texting so he might have been checking the time because he never wore a watch. Mike was in cutoffs, not obscenely short just normal cut offs, and a red St. James Soccer tee shirt, but he was eighteen and athletic and the sharks were circling. Justin stopped and facepalmed as an aggressive queen offered him a rim job. Mike obliviously responded with, “I don’t know much about cars.”

“You’re an outstanding heterosexual,” Justin said and rolled his eyes and added to the queen, “yes, he’s not even bi-curious, go away.”

Mike asked, “Do I want to know?”

“Not unless September is the one showing you,” Justin said.

Mike said, “Maybe I’ll just google it.”

Fortunately for both of them September pulled into the lot, nearly mowing them down, and pulled into that last space. Sep exited her car and posed dramatically showing off her new hair.

Mike said, “I’m starving.”

Justin elbowed him in the ribs and said, “Your hair look’s great.”

“Yeah, awesome,” Mike said nodding and looking like he was trying to figure out how it was different.

It was shorter, much shorter, bobbed up to her hairline in the back and sharply angled so it was long in the front. Sep said, “Thank you. I’m thinking of putting some color in for Pride - maybe pink chunks.

Mike made a face as he held the door to the diner open for both of them and once Sep had passed him mouthed to Justin, ‘pink chunks?’

The place was packed and they had to wait for a booth to free up. That gave them the opportunity to hear the pink plate special, which was Pride Pork. Pride Pork pretty much sounded like the regular stuffed pork chops they had all year round but since they were pretty good and Justin hadn’t eaten yet that day he wasn’t going to point that out.

When a booth was bussed, Justin said to Mike, “sit on the inside; I’ll protect your virtue, straight boy.”

“Because it’s in some kind of danger,” Mike drawled but he slid in, rolling his eyes. It was a far cry from the skittish kid who had been worried about sitting next to Justin in January. But then five oversharing females had probably numbed him to the idea of someone grabbing his ass.

It was pink plate specials all around with a double order of disco fries for the table. Not long after Debbie finished taking their order, Vic and Hunter stopped by and September squished up against the wall and waived them onto her side of the booth. Fortunately Hunter was still a slip of a thing.

Talk turned to the fundraiser going on in conjunction with Liberty House and various Pride celebrations. While the others talked Vic lifted an eyebrow toward Mike, Justin wasn’t sure if he was asking if he were a trick, commenting on the fact that he was next to Justin instead of September or just appreciating a hot jock. Justin said quietly, “I’m protecting him. He got cruised and though the guy was offering him car maintenance.”

Vic chuckled and Sep said, “What?”

“Rim job, cars right?” Mike said, and judging by the guileless look in Mike’s eyes Justin realized now he was just playing up the wide eyed innocent role. Mike was the kind of guy to figure if people would insist on making fun of him he’d just bask in the attention and was perfectly willing to take advantage of any dumb jock assumptions.

Hunter said, “That’s when someone sticks their tongue in your asshole, Asshole. What? I’m a professional.”

“No. You are not. I better not hear you making any offers, either,” Debbie said, plunking down their plates and having brought some for Vic and Hunter without checking.

“That sounds,” Mike started and paused, and Justin hoped to hell Mike’s previous homophobia was not going to rear its head and draw Debbie’s ire and then he finished, “unsanitary.”

“Well, all I know is people pay extra for it,” Hunter said.

Mike shrugged and said, “They should, somehow a toothbrush seems inadequate.”

“Fine,” Sep said, “you win at gay chicken; I don’t want to talk about scat play, golden showers or any bodily functions while I’m eating. I liked you better when you were scared Justin was going to grab your junk.”

+

Cynthia had just ended a call finalizing some last minute changes that resulted from Brian’s latest walk through of their new corporate headquarter. Nothing big, just the installation of a large monochromatic three dimensional wall mounted piece of art Brian had acquired from their contractor. It had required multiple heavy bolts to be drilled into the brickwork of the top floor conference room to mount the heavy almost woven slab of stainless steel that made up the piece. She admitted it did have a certain local flair giving a nod to the steel town roots of Pittsburgh while also representing its creative renaissance.

Brian was prowling around their temporary digs and it was obvious to someone who knew him he was trying not to smirk, because it scared the children. Cynthia had worked with him for years and had always admired him but then almost overnight he had… not so much changed as refined. He was still very much Brian Kinney, he just became more so. The confidence that had gotten him so far in this business at such a relatively young age became, clearer, more concise and less a put up front. Suddenly he was willing to admit weakness, like forgetting passwords, although he still blamed it on the IT staff and had nearly had a grown man crying while he creatively swore at the ‘primitive’ technology he was expected to work with. Brian had always liked the most expensive things, but now he’d become a true technophile often ranting ‘what do you mean it can’t be done, there’s obviously a need, fucking fill it’. And while he had been incredibly driven before he changed, after he was terrifying, she had no idea how he maintained his work schedule. It was quite clear by how fast he’d thrown together this company and all the details he’d prepared for it beforehand that he had devoted months of man-hours to the idea long before Ryder sold to Vance.

Once his son was born she was able to time much of the differences as starting around when Brian would have been making the decision to become a father. And judging by the work he had done in juggling assets and investments he was fully prepared by the time his son was born to be a father. Which was good because according to Ted, Brian’s lesbians could have three children by his son’s first birth day. Although apparently one was a bit of a cuckoo being absorbed into the Brian’s brood by default.

She was surprised that with how much time he must have put in getting the ground work done on Kinnetik that Brian was turning so much of the sales over to Ron. He’d even suggested Ron hire someone else while getting Ian up to speed. Ian was smart, creative and a fast thinker, he just was bad at presentations. He may never be able to close deals on his own but if Ron couldn’t turn him into a hired gun, Cynthia might be able to tap him for support. Lord knew she’d helped Brian pull enough campaigns together that she knew sales was only part of the battle, you needed ideas and hooks and the kid had those.

Justin’s little friend came over with a cardboard tray of coffees and as she put Cynthia’s latte on her desk said, “It’s almost warm enough for the frappuccinos.”

Brian lifted a drink from the tray as he walked past. The girl deftly balanced the remaining two while saying, “That’s Ron’s expresso, this is your triple nonfat latte,” making the exchange while batting her lashes at Brian. If only they could transfer some of that moxie to Ian he might not overdose on Xanax. Brittney was a pistol and willing to work four to six hours a day, she could cover things during lunches and would be a general dogsbody. Regardless of the fact, she looked like a little girl playing dress up -Barbie goes to work. The heels would have looked better on a runway but she could walk in them and was young enough not to balk when asked to run to Starbucks. Cynthia had been surprised when the girl called Friday afternoon saying that Justin hired her and asking what she should bring beside an ID and her social security card, but her first day had gone well and it should be helpful to have her around.

Brian growled his way out of the office and Brittney only smiled fondly after him. He was off somewhere regarding his venture capital business and wouldn’t return until the next day.

Cynthia said, “Once you finish putting together those binders, Brittany, you can call it a day.”

+

Justin had ridden out to the airport with Sep, because it was a boring ride alone. They picked up and dropped off her crazy cousin at her penthouse. He’d left his car there during his last visit. And then drove over to Kinnetic since it was almost the end of the day. Sep was planning to give Brittney a ride home since her heels weren’t conducive to bus riding.

Brittney was sitting at a desk, looking very Ally McBeal-like in a short, short skirt masquerading as business wear. Sep had mentioned they’d hit the outlets recently.

“Welcome to Kinnetic. Do you have an appointment?” Brittney said flashing them a sharklike smile.

Sep snorted and said, “This is what you do? Sit and be decorative?”

“And answer the phone. And I made a necklace out of paperclips,” Brittney said. She had also apparently, judging by the steno pad on her desk started to make a parody of the ‘Chuck Norris’ list based on Brian. Justin perched on the corner of his desk, tilting his head to read the first couple that said, ‘Viagra takes Brian Kinney to get up’, ‘Brian Kinney can slam a revolving door’ and ‘fear of spiders is called arachnophobia, fear of tight spaces is called claustrophobia, and fear of Brian Kinney is just plain logic’. Brittney giggled and said, “I know right, Ian is terrified of him and I can’t figure out why. All he does is ooze awesomeness.”

“Stay away from my man, Brit,” Justin said.

She grinned and said, “I’m just here to serve, you know me.”

“That’s why he wants you to stay away, jailbait,” Sep said as she fiddled with Brittney’s paperclip necklace, trying it on and looping it twice around her neck.

They said goodbye to Cynthia and all got into Sep’s car. With luck they could miss the daily cattle drive out to the suburbs. Brittney lived out in Churchill so by the time rush hour hit they would be coming back in against traffic.

Justin was sharing Mike’s parking lot adventure with Brittney when September said, “Justin, dude, Mike’s bi.”

Justin swallowed to keep from chocking on the soda he was sipping and asked, “Did he tell you?”

“He didn’t have to, Just, face it, my gaydar is better than yours,” Sep said; Brittney just shrugged as if to say she really didn’t know.

Well, he’d been meaning to lay the groundwork for her to be prepared it Ethan were up to his old, or would that be new, tricks so he said, “Mike’s straight, and just so you know, both Mike and I think Ethan Darling is straight up gay. Not to do the rest of the bi world a disservice but he’s one of those closeted guys who give all the other bi men bad names.”

“First, bi is real; it’s not just being greedy or undecided. Second, God I’m not an idiot, I know when the guy I’m with is scoping dick. And for the record he totally is, he doesn’t look at asses he checks out the basket, you know. I’m actually thinking of broaching the whole subject of pegging with him,” Sep said.

Justin covered his face because she was seventeen, eighteen in August and, okay, yeah at that age he’d had his own sexual education at the hands of a grand master but this was September and fuck it. Not to mention there was Brittney, although at least it wasn’t Monica listening in, they’d have to scrap her out of the back seat. He said, “Where… How do you even, God, September – have you been talking to Emmett?”

“OMG Just, you’re such a fucking dork, what does Brian see in you besides a big ass and a mouth like Hoover. I read Dan Savage in the City Paper, welcome to the twenty first century Pink Ranger, this isn’t the Victorian Age,” September said.

So for the rest of the ride it was September explaining various sex terms to Brittney, who ate it up. Brittney seemed disturbingly intrigued with the notion that girls could fuck guys, as the penetrator and not the penetratee. The ride back into town was peppered with Justin questioning Sep if she had bothered to let Ethan know she knew his preferences for packages and the possibility that the reason he was blowing her off for the Pride events was that he didn’t want her to know. Sep said she thought Ethan had more balls than that, and Justin gave her a look but held his tongue.

Later when Justin and Brian pushed their way through the throngs of what Brian called gay tourists at Woody’s. He couldn’t remember if Daphne had joined him on the first Pride week or if she’d been off visiting a college. He knew they hadn’t met up with Leda and the girls, although the number of times Lindsay had joined in to watch ‘Gay as Blazes’ with the crowd at Woody’s all blended together. Certainly Emmett had been there, it had been his show and he always had enjoyed watching it in the raucous environment of Woody’s over his lonely apartment.

Emmett was probably working, or home with HD. Michael was missing, off with David and Hank most likely. Debbie wasn’t there although Vic was, without Hunter; he was sitting with two men his age. Ted was, over by the bar chatting with someone younger than him, who was not Kevin.

 Brian got a bourbon and Justin an iced tea, really tea not the mixed drink, and as Justin started in the direction of the girls Brian said, “Fuck no, we just spent time with them, two out of the last three days.”

“If you wanted to get laid we’d either be home or at Babylon,” Justin said, “It’ll be hours before there’s a decent crowd there. You can’t even get in the bathroom here let alone fuck in it. Where do you want to sit, with Ted? Vic? I think I saw Alex back by the-”

Brian growled an interruption, “Fine, but I fucking hate this show, and I’m not being nice.”

“You never are,” Justin said and pulled him over to the girls.

As a commercial came on, Mel and Lindz were actually talking and gushing about some plot development. While Justin had followed the show when it was on, Brian had been right, it was sanitized drivel that ten years later had been held up as patronizing and insulting by the same gay community that had lauded its debut. Justin wasn’t sure he could put a name to face on any of the actors who had played on it, other than seeing one in an ad years later and thinking he hadn’t aged well. Leda and Brian shared a look of commiseration and disgust, and both tossed back their drinks as if they could ward off Stockholm syndrome.

“Please tell me it’s not Dyke Nite,” Brian said signaling for another round.

Justin added, “don’t mind him, he’s disappointed that the talent pool has been reduced. Anyone who likes this show gets docked a grade in his highly subjective rating system.”

“You don’t like ‘Gay as Blazes’?” Lindsay asked. Apparently she was asking him because surely she knew this about Brian.

Justin looked at Brian, they had that conversation when the show was first on and when it was released again in rerun and then again years later when a remake had been put out. His opinions had changed as he matured and as society had changed. Gay marriage had been recognized by a federal level by the time the remake had come out – the LGBT issues had been expanded to include a handful of other letters and oddly even the most heteronormative of the community had taken up some of Brian’s issues with the original show.

Justin said, “I think it marginalizes more of us than it includes. It shows a safe sanitized non-sexual version of a tiny slice of who we are as a demographic. I am sexual but my sexuality is only one component of who I am, I’m complex and conflicted – show me queer characters like that. This show’s manipulative, it tries desperately to present gay in a way that will not offend the studios, the advertisers, the mass market. All the while the straight public peers in giddily at its television like preteens trying to unscramble porn from their cable provider while feeling as if they are cutting edge, or that they’re very open minded and congratulating themselves on how comfortable they are around the queers. It makes the audience feel that they know this mainstream safe versions of various stereotypes the public can pat itself on its collective back. Just like some old bigot can sooth himself by saying ‘I’m not prejudice, I have a black friend’ the audience feels they know these characters and can say see, I know gay people. But they’re not people, they’re two dimensional – show me a real gay man on television. By real I mean a man first for whom who he fucks is just one aspect, like what he wears, where he eats.”

“They should remake shows from the past, just switch the gender of the lead,” Brian said, and Justin had a brief vison of Brian taking over Hollywood the way he’d started aggressively taking over so many businesses. “Think of it, Star Trek, Man from Uncle, Mission Impossible, any of the shows of the sixties that had the swinging alpha male lead only a hot dyke is cast and bagging the babe of the week.”

Justin laughed openly along with Leda; he figured that they were both laughing at Lindsay’s expression. Mel shook her head and smirked ruefully as if she expected no less of Brian. Justin added, “Or Captain Kirk, working his way through the red shirts, gives a whole new meaning to where no man has gone before.”

“They would never put that on television,” Lindsay said.

“Why not?” Brian asked, “Give me one gay man who instead of angsting to his fag hag about his so called love life just goes out and gets laid – the straight guys do it, why the fuck am I supposed to be sensitive? How realistic is that?”

“Put it on HBO like ‘Sex in the City’, or Showtime,” Justin said, “Frankly ‘Gay as Blazes’ is about as erotic public service announcements and with all the talk on there of responsible behavior it’s like the CDC is writing the scripts. If the CDC wanted to reduce sexually transmitted diseases it would have the same screening recommended for all men not just queers.”

Leda finished her beer and signaled the waiter for another and said, “I gather this has come up before?”

“I hate this fucking show,” Brian said.

Justin said, “To be fair, he has a lot of really good reasons.”

They stayed until Brian finished his drink and regardless of it being earlier than usual headed over to Babylon. The crowd was thin when they got there but there were a lot of new faces. They danced for a while in their own world while the place filled up and then hit the backroom. Afterwards they ran into Ted and Kevin, so apparently that was back on again.

They ran into James, the hot African American trick who had given them so many tips about New York and took him back to the loft. After he left they stayed up talking about the move to their new offices that would be taking place over the next week and a half and going over a guest list for the grand opening party.

 

 


	84. Claude Raines was the invisible man

 

 

 

Brian groaned and buried his face in the pillow. If he heard ‘Lady Marmalade’ one more fucking time, it had played three times while they were at Babylon the night before and now Justin was singing it off key in the kitchen. He pulled himself into the relative silence of the shower, shaved and was greeted by a perfect cup of coffee and a slice of some artesian type bread slathered with avocado, salsa and melted cheese.

“I’d say we need to hit the gym,” Justin said, “but until Pride is over we’ll never get anything done.”

Brian grunted and then said, “River Club. The breeders should be able to control themselves around that perfect ass.” He punctuated his words with a slap to said ass.

“Oh, yeah, more than just conference rooms, I forgot,” Justin said, and bit into his own slice of breakfast.

“I’m meeting with Ted after lunch to go over TKVC, you should be there,” Brian said.

Justin looked up, chewed, swallowed and asked, “Something big?”

“Rumor has it Sap’s in a financial bind,” Brian said, “He never did know how to turn a profit.”

Justin said, “I thought you were waffling on buying it? I know you always said it was a cash cow but… what changed.”

“Jesus, Justin, they played Brittney Spears last night, what more fucking motivation do I need,” Brian said.

Justin smirked and said, “So you’ll what, knock on Lady Gaga’s parent’s door and tell them you want to make their little girl a star? Whether we buy a club or not, you’re going to have to suffer though the music of the early millennium again – at least Beyoncé has already gone through puberty, even if she is still with Destiny’s Child. You realize some of the performers you liked when you died are still in preschool, right?”

“Shut up,” Brian said, not sulking but hating that Justin was right.

They hit the gym at the River Club together and then split up, Justin taking a yoga class and Brian going into the office. He met with Ron to get updated on multiple campaigns, and to make sure Ian wasn’t going to spontaneously combust – or come in and strafe them all with an automatic weapon. And then Shelley and Cynthia joined them to see how the move and expansion plans were going. The contractor they were using for web presence and online ads was a startup company financed and currently partly owned by TKVC. Now while they were new Kinnetik was there only customer but once they were up and running they should be clear to expand staff and take on smaller clients as well. That was one of the things he needed to talk to Ted about, that Try-N-Angle Online Marketing, which was a stupid name, really needed to hire someone who wasn’t a computer or art geek because if they didn’t start thinking of it like a business they were going to tank.

The morning’s meeting went over and only broke when the little intern/gopher that Justin hired from his posse swung in with their salad orders that she’d picked up on Carson. Unlike chain restaurants the bar that made them up didn’t measure ingredients by weight. When Brian flipped open his Styrofoam container the sliced ‘grilled’ chicken on his salad was moist enough for Brian to assume that it had been deep fried and just had the breading pulled off before it had been sliced and put on his salad. The fact that there had to be well over a pound of breast meat artfully arranged over assorted chopped vegetables made it clear he should have just ordered a fucking steak, this salad probably had more calories, with or without dressing.

Once Brittney left them but before they got back into to the meeting Ron said, “Please tell me she’s eighteen because she had Ian tripping over himself.”

“Fifteen, maybe sixteen,” Brian said looking to Cynthia.

Cynthia said, “Sixteen, seventeen before the end of the summer. I’ll talk to Ian. He’s twenty one but not the most worldly twenty one. She might be out of his league.”

“I’d make a joke about Justin’s hiring criteria, but he hired me,” Ron said, digging into his own steak salad.

Brian shot Ron a look but held his tongue because at times Ron was like a straight him, except for the failed marriage and heinous divorce stories.

The fact that Brittney set aside not one, but two lunches either meant she knew Justin’s appetite or she had ordered something for Ted as well. Brittney took her own lunch and went out to sit at the front desk to ensure if any locals wandered in to find out what kind of business Kinettik was that they could reasonably assume it was some kind of porn studio. The whole underage naught librarian look really needed to go. Maybe he’d have Justin talk to her about that because Cynthia thought it was fucking hilarious. Or maybe Ron, he thought Emmett mentioned that Ron had kids her age or something.

Ted arrived and looked oddly touched when Brittney told him she had grabbed lunch for him. And then backpedaling ridiculously when he realized Brittney was flirting shamelessly with him. Brian from his line of sight out of the conference area drawled, “In here Theodore, when you can tear yourself away from the underaged help I need you to put the fear of finance into one of our startups.”

As Ted entered the conference room sputtering Brian nodded to the waiting bags of lunch and launched into his concerns regarding the business sense of geeks and artists. Which of course Justin strolled in on the tail end of saying as he rooted through the remaining bag, “Not all artists have no business sense Brian, I’m majoring in both.”

“Try-N-Angle?” Brian said without looking away from the spread sheet.

Justin said, “Oh, them; yeah, hit them with a stick or something. This isn’t an afterschool club; they need to be aware of their cost of doing business or they’re going to live in their parents’ basements for the rest of their lives.”

So, Ron, Cynthia and Shelley took their lunches and left while Justin, Ted and he had a line-by-line meeting of all the businesses that weren’t doing well. Brian and Ted had cut through the successful ones the day before but the ones that were struggling needed more attention so fewer businesses took up more time. And they needed Justin, because Brian and Ted thought like well, business people, Justin thought or at least could get into the heads of dreamers. It was never fun taking something someone loved and convincing them it, at least sometimes, had to be work. But Justin had learned that over the years with his art and was less sledgehammerlike when he broke the sad news to people that while you could have a business doing what you loved, because it was a business, occasionally you would have to do it when you didn’t love it.

They wrapped it up and headed home early. Tonight they were having dinner at Emmett’s. It was just a casual buffet style dinner, part Pride celebration, part celebration of Emmett’s business success and partly a networking opportunity. They really needed to touch base with Chris even if it was over crudité and cocktails. They hadn’t seen him since the Comedy Tour. TKVC had filtered a lot of work Chris’ way. He was on retainer for all TKVC contracts and they had a contract in place for every investment. Most were a standard format with just the names and dates changing but some investments. Like that online start up required specific details, proprietary rights of graphics and campaign information, Kinnetik was not letting some snotnose kids sell its work to various fly-by-night clients they may take on the side, regardless of if TKVC owned a portion of the company. As a result Chris gave excellent word of mouth not just to TKVC but to Kinnetik. And Chris was tapped into a variety of business groups in the downtown area. For a guy who chose a branch of law that rarely showed off in a courtroom he had tons of charisma and natural charm, which he used to make a name for himself in the circles that mattered.

They were not snuggling as they lay spent and sideways across the bed; they were just catching their breath. Well he was, Justin was kissing and biting his way slowly down along his neck, over his chest moving down and God it was good to be thirty again. Even the groan that his cell vibrating on the bedside table pulled from Justin’s throat felt amazing and Brian threw back his head and matched it with one of his own. Then the loft’s phone rang over on the desk, and went immediately to voice mail so there were messages there as well that they hadn’t checked yet. Who the fuck besides telemarketers called the loft phone during a work day?

The phone started vibrating on the night stand again and Justin pulled his mouth off with a pop. Brian opened his eyes and looked at him incredulously but Justin was reaching for the phone and making a face at it that said Michael’s name was coming up again. It stopped vibrating and as Brian was about to order him to finish what he started it started to vibrate again.

Brian grabbed it and said, “You’re interrupting sex, again. Is someone dead?”

“It’s kind of hard to not interrupt sex when you’re having sex every minute of every day,” Michael replied.

Brian wished. The spirit was willing but he was only human, no matter what Mickey believed. Instead he sighed, “What’s the fucking crisis, Mikey? What couldn’t wait until you saw me at Em’s tonight?”

“Ma’s working at the diner and Uncle Vic has plans I was wondering if one of those girls Justin hangs out with could babysit Hank,” Michael said.

Brian said, “Now, just now, you’re looking for a babysitter?” He shared a look at Justin who had moved up to lie beside him and propped on his elbows could hear every word. Justin rolled his eyes.

“Ma picked up a shift at the last minute, Hunter decided to go out to the movies with friends and she didn’t think she needed to stay at home,” which was typical, Michael had assumed she’d be free to do him a favor because it was her night off and never asked her in advance. “I think she kind of approves of that Monica girl, but she thinks Brittney is a wild one, so they’re out as babysitters, because that’s who Hunter is with. What about that Daphne girl?”

Brian looked at Justin who shook his head and then elaborated, “Daphne’s teaching at that science camp that Molly and Hank are going to be attending, she’ll be in training and orientation the rest of the week.”

Michael must have heard because he said, “What about the others, the ones that helped Emmett during the drag competition.”

Brian said, “You couldn’t afford them.

“Tracy might do it; if we sold it as an acting exercise. Told her she would be cast in the role of a babysitter,” Justin said, “I mean the ten dollars an hour or so she’s paid wouldn’t cover the cost of her costume and props but she might do it, if Frank was willing to let her spend the evening outside the security of the compound without an escort.”

“Ten dollars an hour,” Michael squawked and Brian laughed because he could see Tracy in a wig like Drew Barrymore in Scream asking Hank what her motivation was to put him to bed.

Brian asked, “Don’t you have neighbors? Isn’t that why people like you move away from Liberty Avenue? Isn’t there some teenaged mouth-breather on your cul-de-sac that you can give a couple bucks and he can play video games with the spawn for a few hours; it’s just dinner not an orgy at the baths.”

“You wouldn’t understand-” Michael started.

Justin snorted and Brian cut in with a drawled, “That’s why I have dykes, and an au pair.”

Apparently Michael translated that to mean he should call the munchers to see if any of them could be last minute babysitters for Hank, of course Brian would get hell for that. But it got him off the phone and got Justin to finish the blow job so Brian put it out of his mind.

Later when they reached the top floor of HD and Emmett’s building the wide double doors to their loft were open and the smell of grilling meat wafted over the place. HD had installed metal stairs just off the elevator going up to the roof deck, which were slightly safer than a ladder, especially if alcohol were involved. But it was getting toward evening and everyone was inside Emmett’s place due to a drizzle of rain. When Justin and he joined them everyone currently included the two straight couples, and Wade and Ben.

So far there was no sign of Ted and Kevin, or whomever Ted was banging currently, or Michael and Dave. HD came down the stairs to the roof and in through the doors with a platter of grilled chicken and ribs. Emmet had apparently had a hand in picking HD’s shirt; it was horizontal bands in the colors of the rainbow, much bolder than what he would normally wear. Brian chuffed a half laugh when he read the words though, despite its cheery Pride themed colors the scripted letters said ‘You are the result of four billion years of evolution, fucking act like it’ which was pure HD.

The company was good and lighthearted. Ben and Justin were discussing homoerotic art with Wade nodding along as if he was paying attention. Sometime during the evening Tracy switched on the radio in the kitchen saying that some news talk show was having the experts speak on both sides of the St. James debate. So the voices of opinionated yinzers of talk radio droned on in competition with a new CD of Emmett’s playing from discretely hidden speakers wired into the ceiling.

After the bulk of the food had been consumed, HD’s head came up like a hound scenting prey and he muttered a curse. Emmett’s brother Jud shot a confused look to Chris and Emmett shrugged that he had no idea what was going on. Then the words from the radio registered. Brian hadn’t been paying attention but Justin had been muttering an occasional scoff at what was being said.

“- trouble is you’re just not that smart. I get it; most people aren’t. But as someone who is smarter than you, what you’re actually communicating to your audience is that you believe smart kids should just expect to be attacked by small-minded, weak-willed, socially-inept students with self-esteem issues. And apparently you think parents who drop 15k a year, given the price of tuition, uniforms and other associated costs, should consider it a privilege to accept the crapshoot of whether their kid gets to be killed, or to go on trial for murder. Or maybe what you really want is for anyone in the sound of my voice that even thinks you might be gay; be allowed to murder you without any repercussions – after all you’ve indicated such suspicions are a perfectly justifiable excuse for attempted murder – or would that opinion change if you were the targeted victim?”

“Is that Marc?” Emmett said.

HD facepalmed and said, “He must be crashing at James’ place.”

“Is your brother really that smart?” Chris asked with a hint of a grin.

HD said, “If it’s a math test? Or an IQ test? Sure. If it’s not starting a fight on a basketball court when his back up has already unlaces his high-tops and put on four inch pumps, not so much.”

“The thing is,” HD’s brother’s voice came from the radio, “the students at St. James Academy didn’t start a gay straight alliance in their school due to an abundance of gay students. They started it because there were an abundance of straight kids being called homophobic slurs not just in the halls, but in the classrooms and the staff let it slide. There were an abundance of straight kids being tripped, pushed and physically assaulted on a daily bases and the administration claimed not to know the problems existed. They used this ignorance excuse multiple times, despite it no longer being valid after the first time it was brought to their attention. The administration had ample time to look into this matter. They were still using this excuse when the same student who was nearly murdered at his prom had his locker set on fire and a death threat spray painted on it. They had to expend time, effort and money to sanitize the crime scene but still claim to be unaware any such threat was made. And it wasn’t the school who called the parents when that happened. It was another student. Mr. Jerold Hunt, the chief administrator of St. James Academy, has not, as your previous calls complained, ‘done nothing’ every step of the way he has actively assisted in fostering an environment that encourages intolerance and violence and he has actively placed road blocks before all efforts by students, faculty and parents to diffuse what was an obvious tragedy waiting to happen.”

Emmett said, “So I guess we know where September is.”

“I think I love your brother, just a little bit,” Justin said.

HD said, “Thought you didn’t like blonds?”

“I’ve always had a weakness for men who can cut through the bullshit,” Justin said, and Brian got the impression he wanted to take another tour of Em’s laundry room.

+

Ted was apparently with the A-Gays that night at some event Garth Racine was hosting. Emmett said Michael had called and that David was staying in with Hank but that he might stop by but he hadn’t by ten o’clock when Brian and he left. Justin offered Ben and Wade a ride into the Strip so they wouldn’t have to fight for parking in the district. And suggested they stopped in Woody’s with them for a drink, just to be neighborly. Woody’s was packed. The suburban gays venturing into the city for various Pride week events or just to watch the urban gays in their natural habitat had made parking such that since the rain had stopped, Justin parked at the loft and they all walked the four blocks to Woody’s.

Justin ran into Devon and his not-boyfriend who were slightly less terrified now that they didn’t have to worry about Devon running into anyone from school. He caught up on what their summer plans were and where they were going to school in the fall. Apparently Drew, the not-boyfriend, was starting his senior year in the fall. They weren’t the only ones at the bar talking about St. James now that it was in the news and a couple guys Brian’s age joined them at a table when they overheard Devon and Justin had attended there.

Brian was at the bar chatting with Ben and a couple of his and Wade’s gym buddies from the look of them. Justin spared a thought to hope they weren’t going to end up with one of them tonight. Not that he was opposed to acres of true body art, the kind built with good diet and exercise, in his bed but between all the social obligations of Pride and Michael’s interruption of private time earlier he really wanted Brian to himself.

And then he realized he was only playing a eighteen year old and excused himself, slipped up behind Brian and ground against him and said, “Hey stud,” and paused letting Brian fill in their normal request to dance and added, “want to go back to my place and fuck all night long.”

Brian turned with a growl and they push/pulled each other out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, laughing and groping each other. Brian said, “You would pick the time we walked here to pull this.”

“Race you,” Justin said, and it was good to be young again. Not that either of them had ever been out of shape and maybe if Brian had had the normal creaks of age startup he would have seen a doctor before the massive heart attack that killed him. But Brian’s only real acquiesce to aging had been a shortness of breath due to years of smoking.

It was easy to cross the side streets with traffic so jammed. Even on a weeknight The Strip was hopping, not all of the traffic was due to Pride. The clubs between Woodies and the loft had music playing and windows open sending the sound of everything from dance mixes and salsa to blues and country out into the night. It was a weird race that involved grabbing each other and holding the other back more than passing or sprinting. Brian used his long legs to quickly catch him and Justin grabbing on before Brian could get too far ahead, they eventually careened into the foyer of their building, bypassing the elevator and running up the stairs.

Tumbling though the heavy door, they fought/stripped their way to bed and wrestled to see who was topping first. It was a playful night with a lot of laughing and playing around and digging through a box of sex toys. It was after three before they cleaned up and fell asleep. Brian had set his alarm for ten saying it was Pride so fuck it; he didn’t have a meeting until one.

It was actually Sep who woke Justin at nine, ringing the door buzzer because he forgot he promised to be her crew while she interviewed some average people – read customers at the Liberty Diner – on their opinions regarding the whole St. James news story. At least they were going somewhere he could get coffee and food.

“Someone had a good night,” Sep said.

Justin lowered his shades and rasped, “Every night’s a good night when you sleep with Brian Kinney. Oh God, Sep I need coffee.”

“That ridiculously fancy coffee machine of yours only works when you set it,” she said.

Justin cleared his throat and tried not to sound like he smoked a pack a day and said, “Tell me about it.”

Sep drove and parked in the lot near the diner. Justin shouldered the huge carry case she kept her camcorders and batteries and other things.

“I think we’ll get some good sound bites,” Sep said, “I have disclosure forms, I need you to keep track of them and label them not with names but with descriptions so I make sure I know which goes with which person.”

“Are we telling them this is a documentary, a news story or an art project,” Justin said.

Sep said, “Whatever it takes to get a signature.”

Debbie wasn’t on shift so they had a chance of getting someone’s opinion other than hers on film. Sep had apparently done this the day before with Mike at the ‘Dunkin Donuts’ on Grant Street with the average wage slaves on the way to work and figured the two venues should give her both sides of the issues. She was oddly closed mouth about how that theory was working out so far.

From eleven to one the diner was bustling and despite limited lunch times many of the locals weighted in vocally about not only the bashing, but the reactions to the bashing with their own take on the print media’s letters to the editor and editorials, talk radio and the local television news. There were even people getting most of their information from blogs and the GLC’s online forum, which from the some of the diner’s patrons sounded like it had an abundance of misinformation and Justin made a mental note to check that site once he got back to a computer. Sometimes he missed his smartphone like a lung.

Once the lunch rush was over Sep got a tuna melt and he ordered a burger. They were going over some footage in the tiny playback screen when Justin’s phone rang and he saw it was from Lindsay. She was sobbing and hysterically asking if Brian was with him. She wasn’t giving much information but he was able to ascertain that she was at home so he covered the mic on the phone and asked, “Can you get me to the girls’ place”

As Justin shouldered the camera bag after sweeping all the shit still on their table with the stuff Sep hauled around with her Sep handed Kiki a fifty and told her to keep it as they made for her car. There was the sound of voices and Justin tried to get Lindsay to hand the phone off to whoever was with her but she kept repeating Brian’s phone was rolling to voice mail.

Fortunately Sep had been to the girls’ house before as Justin was preoccupied with the call up to the point Lindsay hung up on him. Leda’s bike wasn’t on the parking pad and Mel’s car was missing. Sep was out of the car before him. Any other time and he’d have told her to leave the damn camera but Brian was tied up and couldn’t be reached and Justin had no idea what they were heading into. Sep was starting to remind him of one of those pushy reporter types, like Lois Lane, only she seemed geared to find discrimination and homophobia everywhere. He barely knocked before sticking his head in the backdoor and calling, “Lindsay? Kal?”

A uniformed officer was there and said, “Who are you?”

“Where’s Ms. Peterson?” Justin answered, aware that Sep was probably filming somewhere behind him.

“Justin?” Lindsay’s voice came from the dining room and Justin pushed past the cop and went in.

“Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?” Justin asked.

Lindsay’s eyes were puffy and her nose seemed runny but she wasn’t crying. There was a scrap on one side of her face and she was cradling her wrist. She said, “I called Mel, but she’s in court today and I only got voice mail, and then Brian was-”

“Yeah he has a meeting up in Cranberry but then you called me,” Justin said. He nodded briefly to the other officers sitting at the dining room table with a notebook out and said, “I think that wrist needs and x-ray, you want me to get some ice for it until your done here.”

“She’s in shock,” the officer who had tried to stop them in the kitchen said.

The front door opened and the seated police, well probably detective because he wasn’t in a uniform headed toward it. Kal came in with Gus on his hip calling, “Miss Lindsay? Are you-”

He stopped abruptly seeing the police and Lindsay jumped up reaching for Gus.

It was September who said, “You can’t hold him with that wrist and you need to pull yourself together, wash you face and calm down. You’re just going to scare him.”

Lindsay pulled back as if Sep’s words had burned her.

“Kal, you and Gus have a seat; Lindsay, I’ll take you upstairs and splash some water on your face. No, September, I’ll do it, you’re angry for some reason and Lindsay doesn’t need that on top of everything.” Justin put an arm around Lindsay and herding her toward the stairs. “Once you get composed and reassure yourself that Gus is fine we’ll get that wrist x-rayed,” he then raised his voice tossing back to the cops, “why that wasn’t done immediately I don’t know.”

 

 


	85. Then something went wrong for Fay Wray and King Kong

 

So that happened, Justin thought. His hands itched for pencils and a sketch pad as he watched Brian at the kitchen table feeding Gus. Gus seemed to enjoy the reprieve from the highchair as he sat in Daddy’s lap with the small dish of pureed green stuff just out of reach. Brian had shown up cursing and in a foul mood having not been able to get Lindsay on the phone after her hysterical voicemail. Lindsay had left her phone on the dining room table when Mel had taken her to the emergency room for an x-ray.

Thankfully by the time Brian arrived the police had cleared out. Or Justin would have been trying to remember the combination to the bail safe. Sep had taken Kal to go retrieve Lindsay’s car and pick up some dinner for the family. Leda startled as she came in the backdoor and said, “Hello,” with an inflection that asked ‘what are you doing here,’ without actually saying so.

“Lindz got mugged, Mel took her to the hospital to have her wrist checked out,” Brian said.

Leda asked, “Is she alright?”

“Just some scrapes, other than the wrist,” Justin said, “but she’s shaken up pretty badly. She’s never been assaulted before and this really threw her.”

Brian snorted, shaking his head but keeping quiet, probably due to Gus being right there. At least Gus was a good deterrent to the stream of profanity probably running though Brian’s mind. Still Justin was willing to give Lindsay a pass on her reaction; he knew how violence could fuck you up. Lord knew September hadn’t been very sympathetic; or sympathetic at all but Sep had mommy issues. In Sep’s mind Lindsay should have held it together in front of Gus, and Justin got the impression Brian thought Lindsay should have not even come home for Gus to see her until she got her shit together.

According to the cops Lindsay had refused treatment and not been able to give a coherent statement due to having to get home to her baby. The police were actually worried she had left her kid unattended so had brought her home. She just got worse when the house was empty, as Kal had taken Gus to the park. She’d made several phone calls, her call to Kal being no less hysterical than the call Justin had received. Getting first Mel and then Brian’s voicemails had set her off crying again. The cops should have taken her to the emergency room first thing. But he guessed they had protocols for child endangerment and had to check.

Kal arrived back with Lindsay’s car and took Gus upstairs to play. Sep arrived a bit later having stopped for food. She had two pizzas, one meat lovers and one with every vegetable they offered, a couple dozen wings and enough fried cheese, and a fried breaded vegetable medley that would block an artery. After dumping her offerings on the cooktop of the stove, Sep kissed Justin’s cheek and murmured, “I’m clearing out, this is hitting all my triggers and I might throw a punch. If she’s still a fucking mess, take that baby home with you.” She then added, “See you tomorrow Brian, it was nice meeting you Leda,” and left.

“Trigger?” Leda asked.

Justin wrinkled his nose at how unhealthy all the food was but plated a slice of meat lovers for Brian and handed a plate to Leda while saying, “Sep’s mom was mentally ill. Sep, being the kind of girl to cut you rather than cry, came pretty close to slapping Lindsay for drama-ing in front of Gus.”

Brian glared at the slice of pizza as if it had insulted him and then asked, “Why the hell am I seeing September tomorrow?”

“She’s using some of the equipment in the art department to do some editing,” Justin said.

Brian took a bite of pizza, chewed and asked, “Wouldn’t the university have better equipment, we’re not actually a film studio?”

“She’s not a student until fall semester, although I may pitch her to take a class in summer session like I am just to clear out a core class and have use their facilities,” Justin said.

Leda had taken a slice of each pizza and said, “Did Lindsay say what happened?”

“I wasn’t here when she was,” Brian offered and looked to Justin.

Justin sat between Leda and Brian and said, “She wasn’t real coherent, but once I got her calmed down and convinced her that she needed to hold it together she said she parked at First Side and took the T to Market, as she was coming up from the underground there was a pull on her handbag. It almost pulled her back down the stairs and she didn’t want to fall down the stairs onto the people behind her, so she grabbed onto the railing and braced herself. That satchel she carries is all leather, it’s pretty sturdy and she thought she had caught it on the railing or something. It didn’t occur to her to let go of it, she even braced the strap with her hand trying to keep the pressure off her shoulder and preventing it from pulling her over; I think that’s what happened to her wrist. When she turned to see what she’d caught it on there was a man pulling on it. She froze, he jerked it and pulled her over, wrenching her wrist and she fell into him sending both of them back down the stairs into the rest of the commuters. He got up and ran and she apparently stayed there on the ground until a cop or security guard came and radioed for help.”

“And why didn’t they take her to the ER?” Brian said.

Justin shook his head and said, “She was a wreck and just focused on getting home and making sure Gus was okay.”

“Gus had nothing to do with it,” Brian said, “He was fine. That’s why Kal is here to prevent disruption in Gus’ routine.”

“Maybe it’s a mom thing,” Leda offered, “like some instinct that makes you have to check your kid when you’re in pain or scared. Don’t look at me I may have a uterus but I’m as in the dark as you guys are.”

“It’s a fucking Lindsay thing,” Brian said.

Justin offered, “To be fair, she’s led a pretty sheltered life, this is probably the first violence directed at her she’s ever faced.” The shadow of both proms and both bashings were in Brian’s eyes when he met Justin’s and they shared a nod.

Kal wandered in and poked through the bags, selecting wings and meat lovers and fried cauliflower. He filled them in on his perspective. He and Gus were at the playground when Lindsay called. All he really got from the call was that she was home, crying a lot and really upset that he and Gus weren’t there. So he packed Gus back up into the stroller and they headed home only for him to see the police car parked out front. He was glad Justin had been there because he didn’t feel comfortable bossing Lindsay around the way Justin did.

Brian snorted and added that Justin was pretty comfortable bossing everyone around.

Leda leered at that, she had a way of making everything sexual and Justin was already regretting introducing her to September.

Mel and Lindsay came in the backdoor. Lindsay’s wrist was in a cast, it was her right one so her dominate hand would be out of commission. Brian deflated when he saw how bruised and battered she was and Justin figured she had no idea the bullet she’d just dodged as Brian let her throw herself into his arms. Over her shoulder Brian and Mel shared a speaking look and Leda stood and gave her chair to Mel and started plating some food for her.

“This stress isn’t good for you either,” Brian said to Mel.

Mel shrugged and said, “Things had mostly calmed down by the time I got home.” And then she added, “I can’t believe something like this happened in broad daylight.

“Best time to do it really,” Leda said. “People drop their guards; they feel safe in a crowd.”

+

Brian watched Justin slide into his burgundy leather pants and a light grey silky tee. Brian went with dark grey trousers and an untucked crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, over a dark tank top. There was an exhibit at The Mattress Factory in honor of Pride and tonight was the launch. It was invitation only and then the exhibit would run for the next month. Justin had been approached, less than a week before, since they had been putting together works by local LGBT artists. He hadn’t done anything new for them but had picked our four of his best pencil studies of Brian. Two face down, showing the plains of his back and swell of his ass and two face up, showing his other attributes. They were not for sale. The works were head and shoulders above his first show at the GLC so very long ago. The Mattress Factory was more than a few steps up from the GLC as well.

Brian had long ago resigned himself to the fact Justin couldn’t help but put him into his work. Even when Brian wasn’t the focus of a work, somehow he was always there, in a particular line or certain shading. If the rest of the work shone tonight was on par with Justin’s it should make rubbing shoulders with the seasonal gays that Pride brought out at the very least endurable. They headed out taking Brian’s jeep.

Brian and Justin entered, turning heads. At first glance, the two of them were more of a work of art than any of the pathetic ceramics and macramé cluttering up the space. This was obviously not an event Emmett had worked on; the booze alone was a dead giveaway. Emmett would have upgraded to a better quality and something more than cheese on a toothpick would have accompanied the bad wine. Brian sneered at the dubious Champaign being offered to him and murmured, “This is pathetic. PTA moms could put together a better bar than this.”

Kevin was there with Ted. Ted came over to talk with them while Kevin seemed to be dancing attendance on Garth Racine. The three of them wandered through the space, Brian and Ted talking shop in low voices that would leave others around them to think they were commenting on the art. Justin stopped so they stopped with him. When Ted realized there were four naked drawings of Brian hung on the wall he said nothing just stared with an open mouth.

“Problem?” Brian asked Justin.

Justin shook his head in frustration, “I fucking told them I wanted these mounted four square, not in a row like this. Buy the gallery for me and burn it down.”

“No, Justin,” Brian said, amused that artist Justin, the bane of New York gallery owners, was rearing his head. “I would never deprive you of the pleasure of yelling at some poor slob. While you’re at it complain about the wine and h’ordeuvres.”

“Brian, that’s you,” Ted said, Brian kept a straight face; this Ted hadn’t been exposed to years of Justin’s obsession.

Brian barely flicked a glance at Ted and said, “Yes, Theodore, I’m a work of art, try to keep up, someone botched the mounting.”

“You’re good,” Ted said to Justin.

Justin smiled and said, “I have another exhibit opening at the Heinz History Centre at the end of the month, you should like it; it’s a tribute to the music clubs of the Hill District and the performers.”

Kevin brought Garth over to smarmily introduce them to him. As if Brian hadn’t crossed paths with Garth countless times over the years.

Justin gave Garth the request polite attention before murmuring to Brian, “I’m going to go speak with someone.”

Brian translated that to mean ‘be prepared to help hide bodies’. He gave Justin a ten minute head start before peeling away from the group and going to find him. The event planner was some suburban breeder. How she had gotten involved with the art work Brian didn’t know, but from the set of his shoulders Justin was going to rip her a new one. Her idea of art was probably big eyed motel paintings. The venue normally functioned as a creative space for artists and their art work but it turned out that this little event and the show had been put together by the GLC. And it showed by the level of professionalism. With Lindsay busy and the babies on the way, the GLC had the freaking event planner putting out every piece that was sent and apparently anyone could show work. It was a good thing they were all tagged because she must have literally sorted them by name and then grouped them by size and hung them based upon where and how she needed to fill in space. She didn’t have any background in art, and had just pointed where she wanted stuff to the college interns who worked at the gallery. It wasn’t even property lit, unless shining the brightest light directly at the work was proper lighting.

Justin launched into her, regarding as he put it ‘playing pin the tail on the donkey’ with peoples’ art work. He said that she should have just told the venue that providing government cheese and generic booze had taxed her limited abilities because surely the venue had someone on staff with a modicum of taste and experience with how to handle art work. He had just gotten to the point where he was saying that no reputable artist would be willing to trust their work to The Mattress Factory when someone from the venue came bustling over.

“Mr. Taylor,” he said at his obsequious best, and Brian realized that here was someone who actually knew who Justin was. The events coordinator looked confused. It seemed as if she had pegged Justin as some bitchy drama queen who did macramé or something. Considering she had handled this like some elementary school art show and put his venue’s name on her ham-handed handling of one of the most famous local artist he had better give damn good grovel or Justin would end up pulling his work. He asked, “How can I make this problem go away.”

And that just nailed it, the guy must have read some book on verbal disarmament, Justin may have let it slide now that he was dealing with a professional, but Brian growled, “Open you’re fucking eyes. The message you’re sending to all these people, the reporters and the crowds you’re hoping to lure into this money pit is that gay and lesbian artists aren’t worth the same professional treatment as the straight ones. The only art this woman ever hung was on her refrigerator. She didn’t follow the artist’s instructions, it’s grouped all wrong and Laurel Caverns are lit better. Also, open your ears; she’s treating someone who did you a favor by letting you show his work as if he doesn’t have the right to pull it. Is she related to you? Because this is a fucking nightmare, she’s tanking your reputation. Do you think anyone realizes that Miss Jane here with the Kool-Aid and whatever the hell is on those toothpicks is the mind behind this fiasco? No, she’ll just go on to ruin other events. But you, everyone thinks you and your staff are responsible for this amateurish set up. Let me guess, you charge extra to have a professional do it, so the GLC decided to hire this housefrau to take care of the event. Well the GLC is going to come off as the victim here and you my friend are taking the hit to your reputation. ”

“Seriously, I want my work pulled, I only lent it with the understanding it would be hung and lit properly,” Justin said looking pretty fierce for a skinny twink in leather pants.

Brian said, “In the future just build the cost of a professional into the fee for leasing the space. You have no idea how much money it takes to buy back your rep. I do, because I buy reputations for people all the time and I charge a fortune.”

Justin badgered the man, who apparently was a fan until a workman, union and experienced came out onto the floor and moved the drawings and shifted the light and put in soft gels over the harsh white. Justin reluctantly agreed to leave the work for the duration of the show, but growled out that the rest of the disaster need to be fixed, now.

Since that little hissy fit had pretty much been the entertainment of the evening they cut out and headed to Babylon. Ted and Kevin ditched Garth and headed there as well. Babylon was still competing with other clubs but Pride gave it a boost. Sap still missed the mark occasionally and didn’t have the showman’s instinct that had let Brian pull strings from behind a curtain for over a decade. Case in point it was the middle of Pride week and Babylon was blasting 80’s music. Sure it appealed to the suburb dwellers. But the hot hip younger men were heading down the street to a competitor. So the older crowd that loved it remembers Babylon as a place without fresh meat and the younger crowd remembers it as a hangout for the older crowd. Now would be the time for a foam party or a contest with a decent prize designed to get the hottest guys up on stage strutting it for the crowd, or a celebrity like freaking Ru Paul.

“Stop making that face,” Justin said, putting his arms around his neck and kissing him.

Brian said, “What face?”

“The one that say you want to buy the place and start yelling at people,” Justin said.

Brian did not smile; in fact he put a skeptical look on his face and drawled; “Now you’re worried about people getting yelled at? Did you not just demand I buy you a building so you could burn it down?”

“That was a public service,” Justin said.

Brian said, “Its 80s night, again, every time they do this the age of the crowd goes up by ten years. Ten years is a long time.”

“Not long enough, not if it’s with you,” Justin smiled and plastered himself from hip to shoulder against him. And suddenly dancing seemed overrated.

+

Sep was waiting, saving a booth for them at Liberty Diner. She had coffee and was paging though the newspaper.

“Don’t you look grown up,” Justin said and slid in across from her and turned over his own cup to indicate he wanted coffee.

She made a face and said, “How’s the drama queen?”

“Her wrist is broken, she has bruised ribs and well you saw the scratches, I imagine she looks like a rainbow puked on her this morning now that all the bruises have come up,” Justin said because he got Sep’s low tolerance for certain things but Lindsay had really been hurt.

Debbie had stopped to fill his cup and said, “My God, who?”

“Lindsay, she was mugged. In broad daylight, coming up from the T station on Market,” Justin said.

“Jesus Christ, how will she take care of that baby?” Debbie asked, “I’m going to make her a casserole.”

“She’s has Mel, and Kal and Leda’s staying there. She knows Brian and I will take Gus for a while if she needs help,” Justin said, but he mentally made a note to call and see if they needed someone to take him for a while. “She’s not alone.”

Debbie took their order and went to take care of the rest of the late breakfast crowd.

“So what was so interesting about the paper,” Justin asked, almost inhaling the dark strong coffee.

“Look,” Sep said, and folded the paper and spun it toward him. “Daph and Mon; all red carpet glam.”

It was a good picture of both of them, two tiny girls in flapper wear holding a shiny award between them. It looked to be in the arts and leisure section of the Trib too not some LGBT periodical. It was from the Gatsby Party and the article detailed the event and what the money was raised for. Justin was sure it was their photo and not one of the other groups the LGC had honored because, they were both photogenic and because anything captioned St. James was running right now.

The caption listed them each by name saying that the current and former president of the St. James Gay Straight Alliance were accepting an award for the groups fundraising efforts on behalf of Liberty House. Vic had retroactively classified all their volunteer hours with the cookie sale under the group that hadn’t technically been formed until after the New Year so they were receiving a special award for service from the GLC. Vic was a genius.

Hunter and Vic came in and joined them and admired the photo. Deb brought them what she wanted them to eat when she brought Justin and September’s order. They ate and caught up with Vic’s plans for Pride and how Hunter was going to the parade with Monica and Brittney. Justin updated them on Brittney’s sexy secretary outfits at work.

As Vic and Hunter were leaving for a volunteer shift at Liberty House, Michael stopped in; he kissed his mother and took the seat Vic had just vacated next to Justin. As Vic was saying goodbye, Hunter muttered something about that the new guy working at Liberty House being a dick. Justin froze. Surely with all the publicity and news coverage they wouldn’t have that asswipe working at Liberty House again.

“Why’s he a dick?” Justin heard his own voice say in an amazingly calm tone and was kind of surprised he could articulate anything. He had that ringing in the ears, blood pounding to the brain; someone was walking on his grave feeling.

Hunter tried to shrug it off. He almost seemed surprised anyone listened to what he said. Finally when Justin just kept looking at him and waiting for a response he said, “He’s angry, mean… he gives me a bad vibe okay?”

“You have good instincts, Hunter,” Justin said. “It’s why you’re still alive.” Debbie turned a sharp look on Justin but held her tongue. “If this guy is giving you a bad feeling, stay away from him. Don’t be alone with him. What’s he doing there anyway?”

“Just sweeping up, laundry, general clean up, he’s not near the residence,” Vic said and turned his attention to Hunter, “has he spoken to you? He’s on work release; they’re not supposed to talk to any of the volunteers or residences.

“He’s some criminal?” September said. “And they let him around sick people? Around Godiva?”

“How do you know Godiva?” Michael asked.

September leveled one of her you’re a waste of flesh looks at Michael and said, “Godiva is Emmett’s family, Em is my family. I’m coming with you guys.”

“Sep?” Justin said and grabbed her wrist as she stood. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, wanted to warn her about but Debbie and Michael were right there and giving September a breakdown of the future as he knew it wouldn’t really help or stop anything. So he said, “If you need bail, you call me. Your dad’s out of town.”

“Marc -” she started

Justin cut in, “will make things worse and can’t get twenty thousand in cash – call Marc when you need to get rid of a body, call me to stay out of jail.”

“I remember; you’re the fag with lawyers on speed dial, big angry dyke lawyers,” Sep said.

Justin smiled and said, “Just one and she won’t be big for another couple months.”

Deb rolled her eyes and went to get Michael whatever she felt he needed to eat. Michael, now that the icky girl had left the other side of the booth got up and slid across from him. Justin was actually okay with that. Michael asked, “Where would you get twenty thousand dollars?”

“Same place Brian would, Mikey,” Justin said, because really he was not playing this game where Michael insinuated he was sponging off of Brian.

Michael said, “Don’t call me Mikey, only Brian calls me Mikey.”

Justin just smirked happy to drop the subject. Michael dropped it as well but he didn’t stay quiet. Justin picked the remains of his breakfast and was in the process of folding up Sep’s paper and putting it in his satchel to take into the office and show Brittney while Michael detailed how different his life was now that he had a kid. Debbie stopped to smile indulgently at him while he talked about Hank.

As Debbie was flagged down by another customer, Michael broke off pontificating on the joy of parenthood when realized his attentive audience had left. Turning to make sure she was far enough away Michael looked back and said, “So how did you do it?”

“How did I do what, Michael?” Justin asked.

He said, “Ma mentioned Brian stopped by and talked to her and Uncle Vic about Hunter attending that fancy school of yours.”

Since Michael seemed to be waiting for some response but hadn’t asked an actual question Justin said, “And?”

“And, what?” Michael asked.

“What exactly are you asking, or insinuating? My skills in the sack are fucking amazing but if you’re implying that any form of sex is enough to persuade Brian to do something he doesn’t want to you obviously don’t really know the man,” Justin said, one thing that he could do in his sleep after all this years was push all of Michael’s buttons, it was much easier now that Michael didn’t know him.

As evident by Michael’s going red and sputtering indignantly and huffing, “I’m his best friend! He would never-”

“Be generous? Show compassion? I get that the rest of the world might not see through the impenetrable façade Brian shows, but as his best friend you of all people should have an idea why it’s there and why Brian might be able to relate to Hunter and want to give him and opportunity he never had,” Justin said.

Michael really wasn’t moderating his volume and Justin saw Deb turn and start to come over as he replied, “I’ve known Brian for fifteen years, he has nothing in common with that little whore!”

If Debbie hadn’t had her hands full with a tray and a hot pot of coffee, she would probably have hit Michael hard enough to do damage to his brain. As it was she took a deep inhale to let him have it but Justin didn’t need volume so he hissed out low and dangerous, “You don’t think Brian has the same skills as Hunter, Mikey? Skills you and I never needed?”

Since Debbie seemed to be willing to let Justin speak before chastising Michael for calling Hunter a whore, Justin said, “Neither of us know what it’s like to be a kid, who stops outside their own home and listens; assesses the situation like going to battle. Can you imagine it? At seven? Ten? Thirteen? He’d stop outside to see if he heard shouting, and then as quietly as possible, opened the door. He’d slip inside. Scenting the air for fresh booze, listening for the creak of a particular floor board or any indication of who was home, where they were, and just how drunk they were. Jack at least had places to go, work, the club, bowling, but Joan, if she wasn’t at church, she could be lying in wait. She may not have been as physically dangerous but a mother who blames her children for not praying her life better can leave deeper scars. Even when she’d drag him to mass multiple times a week she kept up the grinding litany of blame. If he was a better son, a good boy instead of a sinner his father wouldn’t drink or have to hit him. He should pray to be a better person and stop ruining his family. What kid needs that?”

“I was talking about Hunter, not Brian,” Michael said.

Justin said, “They’re both survivors. Both were born to mothers who should never have had children, or if they did, had them taken away. And they both found a way to claw their way out that trap, even if it involved chewing off a leg. You know, James O’Barr wrote, ‘Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children’ there are a lot of different gods in the world, Mikey, some want virgins sacrificed and others want hearts ripped out and offered up to them.”

He continued, “Now I don’t know if Brian had a private conversation with your uncle and mother but I do know that if he did, he wouldn’t want you making his business the talk of the diner – or anywhere else. Normally I would say have this conversation with Brian but I am going to do you a good turn and say, don’t. It’s none of your business. And before you start bleating away about how Brian is your best friend, I would like to point out that you haven’t really been acting like it. He’s not one of your action figures Michael. He’s a real live adult, who is capable of making million dollar decisions. The fact you feel you can second-guess decisions he makes about his personal life, the people in it and his finances is frankly ludicrous.”

Justin tossed a twenty on the table and left. He checked his phone and actually thought about heading to Liberty House. But if Hobbes was pushing a broom there he would be the one who needed bail. He was certainly in no state to head to the office so he turned his car towards his studio. Surely Sep had had enough time to get in trouble if she was going to.

+

September swung into Kinnetik’s temporary offices like a leggy blonde hurricane. For once she wasn’t loaded down with camera bags and tripods. One thing that Brian wasn’t going to miss in their new offices was a desk that had a front seat to all the office drama. He was having his desk and most of his own office furniture moved tomorrow; and then he would have a fucking door to slam.

Now he watched his little secretarial Lolita minced up to September in overly high heels and hiss out, “OMG you cannot go full press drama here; this is a place of business!”

Porn business, Brian ruefully thought, from his seat as he turned away from a frankly revolting look up the back of her obscenely short skirt; just in time to see Ian trip into Ron because he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Cynthia actual smirked at that so Brian stood and murmured, “You cracked first.”

“And?” she said.

Brian said, “You explain to the teen queen of the beaver shots that the boss does not want to see her vagina.”

“What do you mean he’s not here?” September’s voice rose.

Brittney said, “Lower your voice,” and then she followed her own advice before saying, “he hasn’t been in; no car out front.”

Brian crossed over to them and said, “Problem?”

September looked at him and then Brittney and said, “Just and I had breakfast, Vic and Hunter joined us and when they were leaving Hunter mentioned some creepy guy who was working at Liberty House so I went in with them to check him out.”

“When did you become Nancy Drew?” Brian asked

Sep said, “I got family there, if Hunter gets a vibe from someone… Godiva isn’t doing well, either.”

“Creepy guy?” Brittney prompted.

Sep said, “Chris fucking Hobbes.”

Brian looked up at the ceiling, he wasn’t praying for anything, just trying to keep from burning the girls with his heat vision if he suddenly developed it. God, he remembered. Being kind of buzzed and the abrupt come down when Justin was shaking in his arms, having been confronted with his assailant in a place he had actually thought of as safe. He could hear Brittney being appropriately horrified. And offering to set off a phone tree of parents to start calling and howling about the injustice of sick and dying people being subjected to the presence of someone who hated them and wanted them dead. Because that came out, the little shit had said everyone there deserved to die.

When Brian lowered his head and could keep a calm voice he asked, “What did you do?”

“I called Monica’s uncle Carl and told him that Hobbes was making death threats against the residence and terrifying the underage ex-prostitute that volunteered there,” September said in a soprano version of her cousin’s growl, “and I said it was Pride and if cop did not removed him from the photo op that his parents arranged to make him look all reformed that *someone* just might run out crying onto the very festive streets right outside Liberty House and find some dykes with bikes to sob to that her dear dying relative was being subjected to the homophobic slurs of the man who took a baseball bat to the head of her prom date because gay just might be contagious.”

“Do you know any dykes with bikes?” Brittney asked.

At the same time Brian asked, “Did Carl take care of it?

“Yes,” September replied, apparently to both of them. And then she sighed and added, “Tell Just I appreciate the offer but I’m not going to get anything done today.” She flapped a hand in the general direction of the parking lot and added, “oh and thank him for the bail offer, weird how he knew I might need it.”

Brian sighed right back at her and said, “Why don’t you two go, have lunch or shop or do girl things. Brittney buy some longer skirts and you can have the rest of the day with pay.”

“You don’t like my legs?” she said.

Sep said, “well there not male.”

“They’re distracting the straight guys,” Brian said, realizing as soon as he said it that it was the wrong thing because she looked enormously pleased as she bent over to get her handbag from her desk drawer, flashing thong again.

September of all people gave him a commiserating look and said, “I’ll take her to buy underwear too.”

+

This is what he needed. The windows were open. HD had the studio scheduled for installation of whole house air next Tuesday. But today Justin wasn’t looking for a new project, wasn’t working on anything for anyone but himself. He had blocked out a large five by six canvas in cool hues, a background that would be transformed into linens in shadowed sunlight. He wanted to contrast the warmth of Brian’s skin tones against a deserving backdrop. He could already see the finished work emerging from the canvas. Brian spread out face down, his powerful thighs, the sensuous swell of his ass, defined calf muscles. He’d done hundreds of sketches of Brian since starting over but he wanted something on canvas something to remember Brian, now, in the flush of his youth.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been working and his conscious mind really didn’t register the soft clicks of the door opening and closing.

“Saw your car,” Brian said. “September stormed in looking more like her cousin than you could imagine; treated all of us to a rant.”

Justin said, “Thought I would try and keep the drama out of the office. Sorry, figured she’d call me.”

“Is that me again?” Brian asked. Standing close but well-schooled after all these years not to slide arms in a three thousand dollar suit around Justin when he’d been painting.

Justin said, “You should change; before I’m tempted to jump you.”

So Brian went to the bedroom and hung up his suit and Justin tossed his painting clothes before wandering in naked to join him before he did something silly, like get dressed. They ended up in the Murphy bed and Justin really didn’t feel like talking about Hobbes or Michael or anything so they didn’t.

They lay together tracing light and shadow as it played upon their bodies. The overhead light was off but it was a sunny June day, the scent of the honeysuckles planted under the open windows wafted in with every breeze. Even with the sound of passing cars and kids biking down the streets the place seemed timeless as if they were alone in some afterlife and sometimes Justin wondered if they were. Wondered, whether all the drama and all the people around them were memories, or fantasies or half of each; shadow players who gave a backdrop to their own personal heaven.

But before he could get too introspective Brian’s touch changed from lazy appreciation to a heated controlling grip that moved his body into position. Bending him nearly in half and pressing his weight in and pushing each of them to their limits. And that was heaven too; it always had been with them. They might have taken years to develop the kind of trust and cooperation that had them often operating like two seamless halves of a whole but this, this physical, instinctual almost animalistic coupling, this had always worked. It had just taken a long time for them to open their eyes and recognize it for what it was, that it wasn’t something that people found every day that it was something rare and worth holding on to.

Afterwards they did talk, about Hobbes and the trial. How they both might be called as witnesses. Or not, Paul and Mike were the first on the scene.

“About Hunter,” Brian said, out of the blue. “You said, Daphne wants to send him to St. James; do you think they’d let him in?”

Justin said, “Depending on his placement tests yeah, but only if he pays tuition. Not that they don’t give scholarships, but the kids who get them start working in kindergarten on their applications.”

“What if Kinnetik matched dollar for dollar the funds ‘Everybody’s Child contributed toward him, like a sponsorship?” Brian said, and this must be what Michael had been talking about.

Justin gaped openly. Sure they could afford it but that was a big outlay and while a potential tax right off also a pretty big commitment if it was though Hunter’s high school graduation. All he could say was, “Brian.” His tone must have conveyed more than just surprise.

“The little shit was one of us. He was Mikey’s kid, even if neither of them ever know it. That makes him family. Fuck the gay community – they never did anything for me. But this is family, that brassed-off little whore came through for Jason Kemp, all of them did their best for you and me even when we wanted to strangle them. So yeah, Kinnetik is in its infancy but we can match what you spend on him a least until he’s out of high school.” Brian said.

Justin said, “It’s not a complete surprise, Michael was saying something about it at the diner this morning. I’m for it; we could even split the cost between Kinnetik and Taylor Art. But I think we should get Hunter’s input. I know he’s close with the girls but he’s heard some horror stories about that place and he might not be exactly fashion conscious, but polyester blazers. It’s something he needs to have a say about, too much in his life has been out of his control.”

 

 


	86. They got caught in a celluloid jam

 

Brian rolled over and stretched his arms above his head. Face down he peeked from under his arm as he lay diagonally across both his and Justin’s sides of the bed. The six months before he and Justin had reconnected had been too long sleeping alone. Not that they hadn’t often slept apart when they’d been based in different cities but they had never gone that long. And no matter how long it had taken him to admit it, even to himself, that side of the bed had become Justin’s almost from the very beginning. That side was empty now and that was thwarting his plan for a morning in bed. On the upside the loft was fragranced with the smell of strong, rich coffee.

Cynthia had cleared his schedule for Friday, not only was it Pride weekend but it was unlikely he’d get any work done since his office was in route to their new headquarters, even though the move was under two miles across the Monongahela. Ideally in that part of his brain that constantly updated remembered details about the first time he’d lived through June of ’01 Brian wondered who, if anyone, at Vanguard would be chasing the ill-fated ‘Pool Cooler’ campaign. Somehow he couldn’t see young Kip having the balls to target market partying fags for the homophobic good ‘ol boy that owned the company.

Brian rolled over, shut off his alarm as the snooze rang again. Justin was currently padding around the loft, barefoot with those weird gray jersey pants that were in danger of slipping over his hips and tripping him when they puddled around his feet. Why he was risking life and limb and not just naked was beyond Brian’s pre-caffeinated powers of deduction. It was probably some strange WASP inhibition about being naked while on the phone with Daphne. Because, yes, that was how Justin’s mind worked.

On Justin’s next circuit from kitchen to office to bedroom he delivered a sweet, hot cup of the elixir of life. Stopping briefly to ogle, or commit to his artistic memory the shape and tonal hues of Brian’s ass Justin continued his conversation and as Brian’s brain came to life he pondered the oddities of his lover. It was six in the morning, he had just graduated and from Justin’s side of the phone conversation not one of his little teenaged crew was doing what normal teenagers like Gus had done at the start of summer and sleeping in.

“Not the diner,” Justin was saying, “I should be getting paid for how much time I spend there. What about ‘Monte Cello’s’?” He paused and said, “What’s wrong with pizza? They have subs and salads, too,” He listened again, “You do remember that half of us are guys, right?” Justin swung back to the kitchen, took a sip from his own cup on the counter, frowned and then added a bit more hot coffee to the cup, and sipped again. “It’s as wheelchair accessible as the diner, and we can lift him. Okay, but not before one.” Justin looked over met Brian’s eyes and rolled his own and made a talky motion with the hand not holding his phone. “Because I haven’t had breakfast, and we’re meeting the rest of Brian’s wingmen at the diner, hence not wanting to be there all damn day.” Justin listened for a bit and then said, “Okay. Love ya, bye.”

“Wheelchair?” Brian mumbled into his cup.

Justin crossed, came up the steps and sat beside him on the bed and said, “Niles, first time out without parents. I suggested handicap accessible flick at Waterworks, but apparently that’s antisocial. We’re having lunch and grilling him – probably about Lena - or something.”

“Wingmen?” Brian held out his cup for a refill.”

Justin took the cup and got up to head to the coffee machine, raising his voice unnecessarily because now he was actually talking to Brian and not Daphne he said, “According to someone’s best friend, ‘we always have breakfast together to launch Pride weekend’? I assume he’s pulling the same nostalgia detail with Em and Ted.”

“I think Dave is keeping Hank out of the chaos and Mikey’s feeling left out,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Left out of what? It’s not like he’ll be marching for marriage equality – someone might see him.”

“You never know. Now that he’s in management though I can’t imagine him letting anyone see him march. He never made any money as his own boss but he was less…” Brian said.

Justin said, “Closeted? That’s a pretty personal decision.”

“No pushing him off the Kinney cliff, I get it. I think he was happier living out,” Brian said.

Justin said, “He seems happy with Dave, he always wanted to be… normal.”

“What? What does that mean?” Brian asked, sitting up and making grabby hand for Justin to hurry with his refill.

Justin complied and handed off the mug, sat back down and said, “if not for his love of cock, and being able to whine about being an oppressed minority, Michael would be much happier straight.”

“Yeah, if he were a woman; he’d be the perfect nagging housewife. But this isn’t a 1950’s family show its… well, it’s the new millennium at least. Yes Mikey would love to have a big house in the suburbs and a husband home every night for dinner and a couple kids to embarrass as he passed on Debbie’s legacy of no brain-to-mouth filter but that whole TV fantasy never existed. The ‘happy families’ of that era had everything we have now, spousal abuse, child abuse, infidelity, drugs, alcohol, crime, and a hell of a lot less resources or information to help them deal with it,” Brian said.

“Yes, but now that he has the closest thing to that,” Justin said, “The doctor, the nice house, the kid, now Michael realizes that all those things he spent years wanting aren’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Not years. This isn’t that Michael. This Michael is thirty. He’s still figuring things out. He’s just figuring it all out in a different order this time,” Brian said.

Justin said, “Last time it wasn’t until after he lost Ben that he moved back to the district; in walking distance from his store. I think he’s getting restless. Would it be crass to put money on him and Dave splitting before Hank heads home?”

“While crass and I are old friends, I’m not betting on Mikey’s happiness,” Brian said

Justin said, “You’re not feeling guilty, about Michael and Ben? If they get together they get together, you can’t force it. At the moment they’re both in relationships they chose. I like Wade, he and Ben have more in common than just sex.”

“Working out?” Brian drawled.

Justin said, “Their both voracious readers, very interested in nutrition and cooking, and Wade, as a former cop, has a lot of horror stories about bikes in traffic and has been dragging Ben to the rails to trails tracks and off the city streets.”

“Didn’t Ben try to get Michael to do that whole ‘Great Allegheny Passage’ trip back when it was completed?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “Didn’t they go?”

“I don’t think so, something came up,” Brian said finally standing and scratching.

Justin snorted and said, “That’s attractive. Come on, shower, it’ll wake you up. Then after we meet your posse, we’ll hit the gym – at the club not the meat market. And then I have lunch and you are babysitting your son.”

“I am? Here? Or there?” Brian asked.

Justin said, “Anywhere you want, you could take him somewhere.”

“He’s seven months old, where are we going to go, a bar?” Brian said.

“The zoo, the aviary -” Justin started

Brian cut in, “unsanitary, disease ridden.”

“The museum, the history center” Justin continued

Brian said, “He can’t read and has no interest in anything he can’t put in his mouth.”

“The park, Chucky Cheese,” Justin added as he turned the water on in the shower and adjusted the temperature.

Brian said, “Other children are biological weapons that mutate viruses and pass them around like queers at a white party.”

“Or you could come back here and ogle James Dean together,” Justin said, backing Brian into the shower.

“Sadly, my only son is straight,” Brian said.

“Well, you got another in the oven, the odds are getting better,” Justin said.

Brian sighed and shook his head with an overly dramatic look of sorrow, and said “It’s Mel; It’ll probably be a girl and a lesbian at that. I’m never having a kid I can pass on all my crazy good pick up moves on to. It’s sad that this legacy has to die with me.”

“Fortunately you passed them all on to me,” Justin said with a grin before dropping his pants and stepping into the shower.

+

Ted waited for the largest booth to be bussed. Working for both TKVC and Kinnetik let him pretty much dictate his own schedule except for meetings with Brian so when Michael had called the day before he agreed to get there and save a booth. With Pride crowding the street even on a weekday it wasn’t like the routine mornings at the diner. Although come to think of it mornings at the diner weren’t routine anymore.

When Justin had been in school Brian was usually in the office well before nine in the morning. Since Michael had moved in with Dave he rarely fought the work rush to come downtown just to have to go back out to the Big-Q. Emmett had his own little nest and with all the hours he’d been putting in on his business was just too rushed to come to breakfast, or when he was free preferred to linger in bed with his boyfriend.

Speaking of the Belle of Liberty Avenue, Ted watched Emmett sashay into the diner with his hand on the crook of HD’s arm. Emmett greeted him with open arms and a kiss on the cheek, fussing at him and asking if he were losing weight and just in general acting like what Ted’s grandmother used to call ‘a hen with one chick’. HD glared at a trio of twinks who had been about to slide into the freshly bussed booth and sent them scurrying, and probably soiling their underwear.

Emmett was going on and on about how swamped he was with both work and his own Pride preparations, talking of waxings and manicures and stopping to make sure Godiva was set for their ride in the parade.

“No, Kevin?” HD asked, saying his first words since they arrived

Ted sometimes wondered if he should tell them Kevin was a friend and okay they had sex but it wasn’t a storybook romance or anything. But Kevin was convenient and since everyone else seemed to be pairing up why not keep him around until someone better showed. Instead he said, “Working.”

Emmett looked around and said, “Is there enough room? Maybe we should have gone to Ritter’s.”

“Michael didn’t say if Dave would make it. His office has to be open sometime. Four might be too many but given how close Brian and Justin will likely end up sitting, three should be doable,” Ted said.

Debbie came up with a pot of coffee and said, “Three should be doable? Big plans for Pride there Ted?”

Ted gave her a forced smile and saw HD give Emmett a long suffering look, maybe it wasn’t just their schedules that kept them from coming to the diner. It could be they were all getting a little old to be treated like randy club boys, at least for a weekday breakfast. What he said was, “We were just wondering how many more could fit in the booth comfortably. The limited seating makes larger groups tough, might have to start heading somewhere we can shove some tables together.”

Before Debbie could reply Justin and Brian came through the door. Brian wasn’t in his customary suit, just jeans and a tight burgundy tee shirt that really showed off the body that Justin’s art work had showcased the other night at the gallery. Ted watched as Brian, with his arm slung across Justin’s shoulders; murmured something in his ear that made Justin grin even wider. Ted had almost started poking fun at Brian going soft when he’d started calling Justin ‘Sunshine’ practically from the moment they met. It seemed so unlike him, so sentimental. But when Justin smiled like that it really did light up a room.

“Taking a day off?” Debbie asked.

Brian said, as first Justin and then he slid into the half circle booth, “My office is being moved and Cynthia doesn’t want me underfoot. Where’s Mikey? If I can drag myself away from a long slow fuck, he can get his ass here on time from suburbia.”

“Pride isn’t a national holiday, he’s coming to town with the flow of traffic give him time,” Justin said, “Er, would it be rude to order I’m starving.”

They all ordered and Deb brought coffee all around.

While they waited Emmett detailed his plans for the parade. The float he was riding on was sponsored by Babylon, lined with the club dancers, the speakers would blast karaoke style back up music but it would be up to Emmett and HD to remember the words without the screen’s help. Godiva would be enthroned on a wingback chair to waive at the public as they traversed the parade route while Em and HD playing guitar cycled through three songs from the stage area at the front. Michael arrived about halfway through the description and slid in next to Brian and when Emmett finished he asked HD, “Aren’t you worried? About riding on the float? Everyone’s going to see you?”

HD looked at Emmett and Ted could swear he was asking permission to pick Michael up and throw him out of the booth. Not receiving any sign from Emmett that that would be okay, HD said, “Worried about what? I played in a band; to crowds of drunks at county fairs and in the type of shithole clubs where the chicken wired stretched around the bandstand was to keep the beer bottles thrown at the band from damaging the equipment. You’re nervous about the weirdest things.”

As a worrier himself Ted understood what Michael was asking but had never had the impression that HD was closeted or ever had been really. Brian smirked and said, “Mikey’s not out. He lives in fear that someone he works with, besides Tracey, will spot him in a shot of the parade on TV.”

“Being out is a personal decision, Brian,” Justin said.

At the same time Michael said, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I think we all understand,” HD said in that deep voice that carried even when he was speaking softly. “Every gay man or woman, or bi, or transgendered has to make decisions about where they work, who they associate with, even the family they stay in touch with. Tradeoffs are made, what you’re willing to tolerate in the form of prejudices, versus the desire or need to continue a relationship.”

“I do it with my dad,” Justin chimed in, “part of me wants to not forgive him. He tossed me out - be straight and have a home or get out. Do I put up with his ignorance and assumptions to maintain a relationship and keep peace in the family? It’s not an easy question and its one that’s made with pretty much everyone in my life. Are they worth it? Is putting up with the negative aspects of the relationship outweighed by the positive?”

“I never thought I’d have my brother back in my life,” Emmett said softly. “I’d pretty much written off everyone in my family except Aunt Lula. But, going back home, I got to see them with new eyes. Mama will probably never come around but I can’t say any of my brothers and sisters were as bad as I remembered them - God love him, even Burnett. I guess we’ve all grown up some, or I just don’t care the way I used to.”

Debbie’s voice cut in and asked, “Does this mean you’re avoiding the parade again? Michael, Pride is a time of celebration. I raised you to be proud of who you are. I don’t like the idea that that place you work makes you ashamed of yourself.”

“You do have marketable experience,” Justin said, “maybe contact a placement agency and see if there’s a more gay friendly place looking for a store manager. Who knows you might find a better company to work for and get a pay raise.”

“Ikea has a good reputation,” Ted said.

Emmett added, “So do Macy’s, Target and Sears. It certainly can’t hurt to apply. I hate to see you so unhappy, Honey.”

“Or you could go back to school,” HD said and when he saw they were all looking at him he said, “what; retail has crap hours – seven days a week, extended hours over the holidays. Jake worked at a salon in the mall, it sucked.”

+

Mel left Kal getting Gus changed and ready for Brian to pick him up. She had stopped home over lunch, while thanking God she worked for a progressive firm that was so supportive of her same sex partnership. The office rumor mill had brought the news of Lindsay’s mugging and injuries to one of the senior partners. Ms. Kurshira had stopped in Mel’s office personally to let her know that if she needed time off it would be covered under family medical leave even though Pennsylvania didn’t have domestic partnerships covered under that yet. And, , if not for Kal and Brian, she would have had to use it. She wasn’t using it however, Lindsay was fine by herself and Brian was taking Gus so Kal could go to class. It wouldn’t be fair to her clients to take time off just to watch Lindsay sleep.

Mel silently opened the door a crack to make sure Lindsay was well. She was out, dead to the world and snoring, although she would deny the fact she snored when she was overtired. Lindsay had been up and down most of the night with her wrist. She was not taking the pain medication as prescribed despite both the ER doctor and the pharmacist assuring her it would not harm her baby. She put if off until she was gray from lack of sleep and pain. And then reluctantly take half a pill. That half pill combined with lack of sleep dropped her like a bad spy film.

Hearing Brian downstairs, Mel shut the door and went down. He looked relaxed and happy as the lifted Gus over his head and making the boy squeal with delight. Kal had Gus’ bags packed and nodded to her before heading out to catch his bus for class.

“How’s she doing?” Brian asked.

Mel said, “Dead to the world. The pain keeps her awake until she gives in and crashes. What are you boys doing today?”

“I’m thinking ‘Giant’ and Tai food,” Brian said.

Mel snorted and said, “as long as you’re changing his diapers after that.”

While she carried the bags to Brian’s car as he carried the car seat with Gus, they chatted briefly. She added once Gus was in the back seat, “Thanks for taking him, I have a lot to do this afternoon and there’s no way Lindsay could manage.”

“No problem,” Brian said, “I was off anyway, and if I get called in, he can come with me. He’s a good kid.”

They exchanged one of those awkward looks that said, ‘Oh God, we’re parents’ before parting ways.

+

“Oh, look, Ethan Darling’s here,” Monica said. She’d been updating Justin on her first art class at the community college as they walked up from the parking garage. “I thought we made him all uncomfortable.”

“Sep and I think he has a thing for Mike,” Brittney put in.

Justin just shook his head as Daphne said, “Mike would eat him alive. I don’t see him putting up with the overdone romanticism. Mike needs someone who’s sincere.”

“And female,” Justin said only to be ignored by the girls.

“The inner stuff is probably more important that the outer stuff,” Monica said.

Brittney said, “And hot, he needs someone way hotter than Ethan, regardless of the gender. Mike’s going into finance; I don’t see him putting up with the whole starving musician lifestyle Ethan embraces either. Mike needs someone who looks good and knows how to have fun. Like me; but not me because that would be weird, and I’m thinking of training up Ian, who’s out of school and has a good job.”

“I think you just have to learn to stomach the overdone romanticism and weird pretentious poverty if you major in the arts,” Monica said with a sigh.

Brittney said, “No way. Shelley’s an artist and she’s like an executive as well. She has a kicking wardrobe, a hot boyfriend and her own bachelor pad in the city. I’m going to have all that and I’m going to travel all the time. I’ll practically live in hotels and know all the best spas.”

They entered Monte Cello’s downtown in its odd round cornered triangular shaped building, a door on either of the walls that made the point with the counter on the large side of the triangle. There were a few tables. The restaurant did most of its business in take out so didn’t have much in the way of atmosphere. The girls started moving chairs and left Justin and Ethan to shift the heavier tables.

When Paul, Tracy and Mike showed up with Niles, the boys lifted his chair up and over the small stoop into the restaurant. And they were all seated and debating what to order before heading to the counter. Once the food arrived the girls tried to subtly pry about Niles and Lena while Mike worked at deflecting from the subject. He steered it to the orientation seminar at Ohio State that Paul had attended and to the summer program Tracy would be starting. As he started to ask Monica about her classes at CCAC, September put her fork noisily down and said, “Would you let Niles talk?”

“Sorry,” Mike said, with an overdone sheepish look and asked, “Niles, will you be attending any orientation for Georgetown? And do they think your PT will delay your start date?”

“I can actually continue PT on campus and I’ll have wheelchair accessible housing, at least for freshman year. They have a special orientation later in the summer for students with special needs,” Niles said calmly.

It was obvious all the guys, except Ethan, were on board with keeping the Niles/Lena relationship under wraps. But the girls hadn’t been there when Niles had put the subject firmly off-limits at Sep and Tracy’s grad party. So Daphne said, “Niles we were just wondering about Mrs. Orr, she’s been-”

“Ms. Carter,” Justin, Paul and Mike said together.

Justin added, “Lena’s been going through a divorce. I’m sure she’s had her fill of unsolicited advice and unwelcome speculation on what happened. It might be nice, if as her friends we just wait to see what she’s comfortable sharing about her private life.”

Daphne blinked slowly. Never let it be said she wasn’t brilliant because she smiled and said, “You know Georgetown has a great medical school. I bet the physical therapy there will be excellent.”

The talk turned to Pride and everyone talking about meeting up before the parade. Sep was wanted to film Emmett and HD so was enlisting Mike and Justin while disparaging Ethan’s shaky hand and unreliability in showing up as if he wasn’t sitting right next to her. Halfway through arranging where to meet to exchange equipment and where the group should watch from and if someone should go early to block off a prime location Sep’s phone rang.

She glanced at it and took the call. Justin didn’t think anything of it until she stood and her hand lifted as if of its own volition and hovered just in front of her mouth as if trying to hold in words. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears and she whispered, “What can I do? Give me something to do.”

Justin got up and circled around; Ethan frowned when Justin touched her shoulder gently as September listened to the caller. She then said, “Justin’s here. We can, we can take care of letting people know. Do you need help with anything?” She paused and said, “Okay. Call me for anything okay?”

When she ended the call she looked at Justin, refusing to blink because he could see if she did tears would fall. She turned to the rest of them and said, “We lost Godiva.”

“Oh, Sweetie. He was like a mom to Emmett. I know you liked him because he didn’t set off all your mom issues,” Tracy said as she rose and hugged September.

Daphne had no shame about tears but looked angry when she said, “what’s the use of having antivirals if we can’t get ahead of this disease.”

“HD’s with Emmett,” September said to Justin as Tracy released her and Ethan hovered ineffectually, “I told him you and I would take care of letting people know.”

Justin nodded and said, “Yeah, Brian has Gus today, I can call him. Do they need anything? Should I make arrangements?”

“I think they’re just getting their heads around it. Emmett has a church, like one he goes to regularly. I don’t know… they hadn’t got that far. Marc’s in town but I don’t know if he’d actually be any help in this situation. I’ll call Aunt Maureen, you call Brian,” Sep said.

“I’ll call Mr. Schmitt,” Brittany said, pulling out her phone.

Justin shot Brittany an incredulous look as Monica said, “I’ll call Hunter, he might know but he should be in the loop too.”

After he got off of the phone with Brian, Justin called Shelley at work, since he didn’t have Jud’s number and figured someone should tell Emmett’s brother.

Once September finished her call they all started splitting up. Monica had arranged to meet Hunter at the diner and Brittney wanted to go as well so Daphne drove them over, despite Justin having been there that morning. As the younger girls headed in Justin nodded over toward Woody’s, since Hunter had told the Mon that Vic was having a drink with a friend when she called, and he and Daphne said they would catch up.

+

Brian and Gus had spent most of their time playing rather than watching a movie. It was weird that only a few months, or weeks ago really, Gus could be parked in his car seat most of the time and not fuss at all. Now Gus wanted to move. He wanted to see, touch and taste everything. And he could move, he army crawled around the hardwood and just watching it made Brian wince. Gus seemed oblivious, his little hands and knees scooching forward at a rapid pace. Justin had done something with all the outlets and lower cabinets but Brian had carried Gus around the loft before putting him down to make sure they hadn’t left anything out that could be dangerous.

They played pretty much constantly during his visits now. At this age play pretty much consisted of stacking things and hitting things and squealing a lot. Brian had a padded mat he kept rolled up around some of Gus’ favorite toys, at least the ones he kept at the loft. The only moment he’d take his attention off him was when Justin had called and even then he kept Gus corralled between his legs.

Brian dialed Lindsay. She answered it with, “Is everything alright?” Which was understandable, he’d never called while he had Gus.

“Gus is fine. Godiva died,” Brian said, seeing no reason to ease into it. “Emmett’s taking care of it, or maybe HD because Em’s probably a mess. No details yet on any memorial, but knowing Em there will be something incredibly sentimental and tear-jerking.”

“Oh Brian,” Lindsay said, sounding as if she might cry herself, which was ridiculous, it was like weeping over some celebrity because Godiva and Lindsay hadn’t run in the same crowd even before Godiva got sick.

Brian said, “Do not get moist. How’s the wrist? Are you getting any sleep with that thing?”

“All I do is sleep, that’s why I missed you when you picked up Gus. The doctor swore to me what he has me on won’t harm the baby but I have a call into my OBGYN, something that knocks me out like that has to be dangerous,” Lindsay said. “What have you boys been up to?”

Gus chose that moment to let out a happy squeal and Brian winced and said, “livin’ it up; partying hard.”

Lindsay laughed; on anyone else Brian would have called it a snort. She said, “Mr. Big Shot Executive, on the floor covered in drool, if your clients could see you now.”

“My knees hurt just watching him crawl on the hardwood, the kid is as tough as nails,” Brian said.

Lindsay said, “He is going to go straight from standing to running any day now.”

“Wait ‘til there’s three of them,” Brian said.

Lindsay was quiet. The frosty quiet that said it was still a subject she didn’t want to discuss, not with Brian. But it was a subject she’d been avoiding with Mel too, and how odd was it that Mel talked to him about this stuff so he said, “come on, Lindz. I’ve known since the STD scare. You’d be popping the pain meds like TicTacs if you weren’t sure you were going to keep it.”

“I just,” Lindsay said, “I don’t… I don’t want this baby to be treated differently. The other two were planned, wanted. But, he or she, I don’t want this hanging over them, unspoken but just there.”

“Lindsay, I wouldn’t. Mel wouldn’t. I don’t know her as well as you but you know she would never stand for a child to be blamed in any way for the circumstances of their conception.” He paused and then asked, “You planning to tell your fat hairy artist that he knocked you up?”

“Brian!” she said.

“Seriously Lindz, I know you want to pretend it never happened. But that’s his kid. You might want him out of your life, but one, he should be given the chance to do the right thing, which is at the very least to pony up the financial support. And before you go all noble remember you will have three kids in college at the same time,” Brian said. “Tuitions will likely have tripled or more by that time. And the kid deserves to know if the old man shuns him. When he or she hits the angry teen years you do not want to be the villain, keeping him or her away from a loving doting father who will have the high ground if you never told him.”

“Mel thinks I should tell him too,” Lindsay said.

Brian asked, “You two talk this over with Lorraine?”

“She actually thinks that the three of us should come in for a session regarding how our lives will be changed with the new babies,” Lindsay said.

Brian let his head fall back and hit the seat of the couch he was sitting against, which was not nearly as satisfying as banging it against a wall but the only thing in reach.

+

Woody’s at lunch time wasn’t the same as in the evenings. And it was so strange that he’d never been here with this Daphne, not having needed a high school girl to play wingman for him this time. The crowd was much older and there was hardly any cruising going on. Justin nodded to the daytime bartender, who Brian had said used to be the night time bartender when he’d first been old enough to sneak in.

“Vic?” Justin said. He hated to interrupt; Vic and Lucky were having a drink and God he hadn’t realized Vic knew Lucky until his funeral but it made sense given just when Vic would have been scoping out Pittsburgh’s gay scene for the first time. Justin hadn’t heard about man known as the Pope of Gay Pittsburgh until he’d been part of a historical project on the gay culture of Pittsburgh.

Vic turned from his conversation and said, “Justin? “

“I wish it was better news,” Justin said. “But we lost Godiva.”

“Ah, hell,” Lucky said.

Vic said, “But, I was just there this morning.”

“Yeah, and Emmett was there yesterday but, well,” Justin said. “Emmett and HD are going to arrange something. We should know the details by tomorrow, it’ll probably be on Sunday.”

“I’ll be there, just let me know,” Vic said.

Vic introduced Lucky to Justin and Daphne. Vic sounded pretty proud of them when he talked about their fundraising efforts for Liberty House and mentioned them founding a non-profit to help the rent boys.

Lucky shook his head and said, “It’s good to see young people so involved in our community.”

Vic then mentioned Justin was Brian’s partner. Apparently Lucky knew Brian well and just shook his head at the thought of Brian being all grown up and settled down. Justin told Vic that Brian was home with Gus if he wanted to talk to him and said the he and Daphne were going to stop by the diner and make sure Debbie knew. As he turned to leave he heard Lucky ask Vic to let him know the time and place since he was still in contact with a lot of Godiva’s old friends; at least the ones who hadn’t moved during the exodus of the eighties.

+

Emmett found himself clutching the wig Godiva was going to wear for the parade. It was blonde and a more conservative cut. It kind of reminded him of Justin’s mother’s hair. He should have seen it as a sign. The fact that Godiva had been giving up his femme fatal falls or an elaborate up do. The sorting through his storage space, passing on his dresses to Emmett’s care, even taking time to get to know HD regardless of the fact HD had zero interest in the drag culture all were signs of getting his house in order. Godiva had gotten the sign and not told him.

“Honey?” HD said. He had a glass in his hand. Sweet tea, filled with ice cubes, he must have made it down in the kitchen because it was a real glass and tasted fresh brewed. Emmett had asked for a few minutes but glancing at the clock it had been almost forty so it wasn’t any wonder HD was back to check on him.

After sipping his tea Emmett still didn’t have words and felt HD sink down next to him on the now empty bed. He put his arm around Emmett and pressed his lips to his temple. It felt so good to just lean on him for a moment. Emmett remembered being all of nineteen and new to the city, how welcome Godiva had felt when he took him under his wing, this felt a bit like that. The world wasn’t quite as large and cold and empty when you had someone who would shelter you a bit. Give you a space to sit and sigh and regroup yourself to face what was next.

“I called New Bethel Baptist, Reverend Green said they were planning to do something for Pride on Sunday, and will do a memorial service for Godiva at the end of service,” HD said. “Talked to the crematorium as well, they can have the urn ready by then, got a spot in Arsenal Cemetery right up the street we can walk from the church for the interment. You want to sing something at the cemetery? Godiva loved ‘I’ll Fly Away’. Those that we don’t call between now and then can be told after the parade, we can make an announcement then.”

“Do you think?” Emmett stopped and then said, “I don’t know if I can face the parade without Godiva.”

He felt HD tighten his hold on him and then HD said, “You started to ask what I think, so I’ll tell you. This is the last thing you and Godiva worked on together. I think you should see it through. Use this as a way to let everyone know just what we’ve lost. Your grief is going to go on, and it should, you’ve lost family here, but you’ll never be able to go back and finish this if you don’t do it now. For you and for Godiva – you know I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Emmett turned his face into Huxley’s shoulder and felt the tears start again.

+

Daphne and Justin entered the diner. Monica, Brittney and Hunter were at a booth. Justin noticed Debbie wasn’t in sight as he and Daph slid into the side with just Brittney with their backs to the door. The lunch rush was over and the dinner crowd would be in until after five. Kiki was the only one working the floor and there were only two people at the counter, and one other booth with customers. Justin ordered ice tea and a half dozen lemon squares because without Deb there they couldn’t take up a table and order nothing.

Shortly after sitting down the four of them who had cell phones pulled them out and read the same mass text from September. It listed the time of the service on Sunday, the church’s name and location and details on the interment. Almost immediately Brian replied and offered Kinnetik’s roof deck for the reception after the funeral. Justin requested estimated attendance numbers and offered to place an order at the Greek bakery in the South Side for cakes. Brittney texted she’d pickup anything they wanted from ‘Moio’s’ and Niles offered some of the coffee services used at his father’s car dealerships. Paul replied for him and Mike offering to go over early Sunday morning and set up any tables and chairs. An unnamed number, which must have been Marc, said he could meet them there, once they had the address with HD’s truck and rented folding chairs and tables as soon as someone knew how many they’d need. Ted sent that Cynthia was giving him keys to the building and he could meet them there Sunday morning and let them in. HD said Emmett was estimating one hundred people, and suggested they prepare for two hundred since they would be announcing it at both the parade and the church service, he said he would reimburse them for any expenses.

Justin and Brittney immediately called 411 and got put through to the various bakeries. Since it was such a large order Justin was able to arrange delivery of the specialty cakes to Kinnetik’s for Sunday morning while the guys would be setting up. Brittney arranged a Sunday morning pick up for cookie trays and Daphne offered to drive and pick them up, with the guys helping them unload they should all still be able to make the service on time.

Once all the texts stopped flying Hunter borrowed Monica’s phone and called home and gave all the details to Debbie. Debbie apparently had a split shift and would be back again for the dinner rush. Justin slipped back over to Woody’s and passed on the times and places to Vic and Lucky before rejoining his friends. Most of the girls were more sad for Emmett than mourning Godiva. Sep had been the only one to spend time with Godiva. Hunter, despite volunteering with Vic just didn’t hang out with old people, or people he perceived as old. It was however the first experience he’s had with a community rallying around someone who was grieving. His own father had never been a presence in his life; he didn’t know if that was by choice or if his mother had just never told the man she conceived. Both of his mother’s parents, to the best of his knowledge had died before he was born and the men who came in and out of her life were not likely to be mourned if they died. So their conversation turned to grief and social customs and life and death in general. They were still there, swilling coffee or in Justin’s case milkshakes when Debbie finally bustled in for her dinner shift, causing Justin to realize just how long they’d been hanging out and to excuse himself and walk back to the loft.

It was empty when he got there. Brian must have been returning Gus so Justin crawled into bed and napped. When he woke a couple hours later, Brian was a warm weight against him. Justin lifted his head to look around and then back at Brian, the summer sun was still out and the louvers were open so he could clearly see every muscle as they play under the taut young skin. Brian hadn’t lived long enough for the ravages of age to make themselves known on his body but there was a world of difference between thirty and forty five. Justin started to drag his fingertips over the clean lines that his eyes had been drinking in. Brian demonstrated he had been awake by snaking out an arm and rolling Justin on top of him.

“Your first Pride hasn’t been very festive – again,” Brian said.

Justin shrugged and said, “Still, better than the first-first. You’re here, I’m here, I’m able to walk down the street without panic attacks and Michael isn’t popping in randomly to both nag you to change and whine because you’re changing.”

Brian snorted, rolled them again, nearly off the bed so he was looking down at Justin. He had a gleam of mischief in his eyes that took Justin back to the first, first time and spoke of handstands and juggling. It had been that look that gave him hope in the beginning, that this cool controlled sex shark wasn’t completely walled off, that there was room in his life for a love-struck kid. This session was filled with laughter, some tickling and more than a bit of roughhousing. It spoke more of boys wrestling for a remote than any of the unrealistically steamy sex scenes in the stories Daphne refused to admit that September had gotten her to read.

By the time they finished, showered and headed out to Babylon it was after midnight. The place was packed and if not for Brian’s superpowers they would never have gotten in. There was no sign of Michael and Dave, surprisingly because Mon, Britt and Hunter said they were going over for pizza and a game night so that Hank’s dad could celebrate Pride and Michael had confirmed that morning he was planning to be at Babylon that night. They ran into Kevin and Ted who said Michael had been there with Dave earlier and had already left. After they danced some and separated briefly, obviously crossing signals somewhere because Brian showed up with Luis and Justin with James. The three-way they planned was upgraded to a four-way and everyone was happier for it.

When James and Luis left the loft, Justin heard them making plans to go get something to eat together. Brian was stripping the bed shaking his head at Justin’s matchmaking attempts. Justin helped remake it before checking his alarm for the parade in them morning. As far as they knew, Mel wasn’t planning on riding and since Lindsay, with her wrist, wouldn’t be on the back of the bike, neither expected to have Gus handed off to them but you never knew. Even with Kal they saw a lot more of the little guy than before. Mel and Lindz had been planning to march for marriage equality but with the pain meds and being pregnant, marching in the humid heat might not be on the agenda for either of them.

Sliding between the crisp, clean sheets into his lover’s arms Justin’s mind was racing. He couldn’t shake how different it all was, and yet how very much the same. Brian had said the girls had come to an agreement on the house, and of course chose the one in Shadyside. Which was good, Justin was leaning toward Shadyside Academy for the kids and it was close, all his research showed it was the best choice not only academically but the atmosphere and mission statement of the school was in alignment with what he expected the girls would want. It was pricier than St. James but offered better extracurricular activities and duel enrollment programs with CMU, Pitt and Duquesne at the high school level. Brian had suggested getting the girls settled into the house before tackling the hurdle of private school; or perhaps even waiting for Gus’ first birthday. Maybe he’d put together a PowerPoint presentation; with a soft sigh Justin drifted off to sleep.

 

 


End file.
